Out of Sight, Out of Mind
by Clez
Summary: Tom Sawyer is an Extraordinary Gentleman in his own right, but when he falls prey to something sinister that will eventually ruin one of his friends, the question is how much torture can one man take, physical AND mental?
1. Never Underestimate A Lady

**Author's Note: **I'm back, with a vengeance, and ready to scare you all with my dark side... at least, that's the plan anyway. Well the plan is... no, I shouldn't reveal the plan until it is time, or you won't read the story :) That would be silly of me. Anyway, I know I haven't finished uploading Silver Bullet yet, but rest assured, this story will not divert my attention... that's if you're reading that one at all. *cough* Anyway, I will have an update list ready for this story, and if you wish to join it, drop me a line, or let me know in a review, which I hope you will be kind enough to leave for me :) Please? Don't beg, Clez... it sounds desperate. Oh my, I've prattled on haven't I? Yes, anyway, so I hope you enjoy this story, and I hope you're prepared for owies and angst...

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters of LXG, whether they are from the comic books, the film, or the novelisation. All original characters, as the title suggests, are mine. I do not mean to commit any sort of crime, and I will make _no_ money from this whatsoever. All I want is to entertain. Please don't sue me... or expect a disclaimer in every chapter :D

*           *           *

            With the approach of nightfall, the conning tower had finally descended below the waves, the solar panels fully charged with enough energy to keep them submerged through the evening and early morning hours. They would most likely surface again once more when the sun rose. That was the way of things about the Nautilus, Sword of The Ocean. Her captain was a very stalwart and precise man who liked to run things by a strict schedule. Her crew and passengers passed the hours performing tasks both necessary and menial alike. 

            Not only was Nautilus the only submarine of her kind in the world, a one-off marvel to be treasured and respected, she was also the 'home' of the _League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_, a skilled team of individuals who were often called upon by the British government to solve problems too risky or serious for their own agents and teams to handle. They were what some liked to call the elite... and what others liked to call downright strange.

            Though they were known as 'Gentlemen', in their midst was one woman, not to be underestimated in her own right. She sat now, dressed in her usual skirts, petticoats and blouse, working on a new experiment. A chemist at heart, Wilhelmina Harker always thought of her late husband Jonathan when amongst her test tubes and samples. The tinkle of glass on glass would quite often bring a haunting smile to her face as she remembered days lost in his company. 

            With a sigh, Mina put down her beaker, and removed her glasses, done for the day. She was starting to hunger, though not in a conventional way. The only thing that usually helped her at this time was to pay one Captain Nemo a visit. He helped her every time... without failing or question.

            And so it was that her high-heeled boots carried her steadily to his cabin, where he was musing over some maps and diagrams. Dark, soulful eyes met her face at once, and he furrowed his thick brow. 

            "Can I help you, Mrs. Harker?" he asked of her politely in regal tones that the crew of the Nautilus dreaded to disobey. He was not a man to be taken lightly. Nemo took his Indian heritage very seriously also, and could quite often be found in his private room praying in front of his statue of Kali, goddess of death. 

            Mina Harker nodded, her blue eyes wavering from his face for a moment. She tucked a loose strand of auburn hair from her face where it had escaped the confines of her high bun, and replied, "Yes, Captain, I believe you can."

            She tried not to keep her eyes on his dark face for too long. Her hunger always tried to overwhelm her, her otherworldly traits kicking in far too savagely for her to contain sometimes. This was when she was most frightened of herself... when she thought she might hurt the ones she cared for.

            Nemo traipsed from the room, his ornamental sword and scabbard ever-present at his left hip. He wore his usual blues and whites of captaincy, a turban wrapped intricately about his head, covering his black hair. That in mind, she only assumed he _had _hair underneath the turban. She supposed he did, what with having a thick black beard and moustache after all. 

            They travelled on their way silently to the kitchens, but halfway there, Nemo stopped at the dining hall. "Perhaps you should remain here, Mrs. Harker, whilst I gather you some nourishment. You will not be offended if I lock the door behind you?"

            Mina nodded. It was wise. If she lost control of her urges and gave in to them completely, they would be in grave danger. She didn't want to have to force them to dispose of her. "Of course, Captain."

            With a nod, she stepped into the room, and let him close it behind her. She heard a key turn firmly in the lock, before picking out the sounds of his boots carrying him away.

            Sighing heavily, Mina sat herself down in one of the chairs and closed her eyes. She cursed the day that damned Count Dracula had ever brought her under his influence. It had ruined her life... stolen away her beloved husband.

            _One day I will find a way to be free of this blasted burden_, she thought angrily, growling without being able to suppress it, willing Nemo to hurry. The last thing she wanted was to attack him when he came through that door after taking too long.

*           *           *

            With a great crack of thunder overhead, the door to the bar opened once again, and another rabble of loud men slipped in. They were laughing heartily about something they had just seen, and gesturing out the door. No doubt they had already visited another establishment like this one, and had a few drinks already. And no doubt, they wouldn't make it home this night either. Lightning flashed, but still the heavy looming clouds refused to drop their load.

            Over in the corner, at a table on his own, sat a young man, musing over an empty glass mug, letting his thoughts run away with him. He had been run off his feet all week, and now that he had a chance to relax, he was bored out of his mind. Despite the lethargy he knew he was feeling inside after the troubles of the mission he had undertaken, he couldn't help but think that he should be doing something.

            Special Agent Thomas Sawyer exhaled slowly, and decided that wasting away his hours in this seedy bar probably wasn't the best idea. So it was that with another sigh, he stood himself up from the table. It felt odd not to be carrying his modified Winchester rifle in his hand, but as he passed through the crowds, he was almost glad he'd left it in his residence.

            The Secret Service had contacted him rather miraculously out of the blue not long ago, and proposed a mission to him. Not being the kind to say no to a bit of excitement and intrigue, he had accepted. Of course, it was a marvel on its own that he had managed to escape this one unscathed. It hadn't been without its risks. He had just revealed something major to the government, who -as always- hadn't quite showed their gratitude fairly. A good old figurative pat on the back, and encouragement to keep up the good work.

            With a somewhat cynical sneer, Tom Sawyer exited the bar, looking up at the sky. It was black, the stars hidden completely behind the thick, threatening clouds that should have burst with rain hours ago. He reckoned he'd be lucky to make it back to his place without getting soaked.

            _At least I get to go back to the League tomorrow night_, he thought with a sense of relief, remembering the deal he had set up with Nemo and the others to rendezvous with him at midnight the following evening. They had known he'd return... as he had. He found it difficult to stay away now.

            Shoving his hands none too gently into his black overcoat pockets, Tom turned left on the street, and started down it at a steady pace. It was quiet out tonight, despite the amount of drunken and rowdy men he had just left behind in that bar, the one he had already forgotten the name of. There was barely a soul in sight.

            That was of course, if you didn't count the lone young woman he caught sight of walking along the street adjacent to the one he travelled. Her pace was slow, and her head hung low, a veiled cap on her head, a red gown and evening jacket keeping out the cold.

            Furrowing his brow, Tom debated going over for a closer look. 

            _She shouldn't be out on her own_, he thought, _doesn't she read the papers? People get attacked out here on their own_. 

            It wasn't the fact that she was a woman on her own... he knew first hand how capable the female of the species could be. It was just... not sensible to be walking alone. He reminded himself of what he was doing then, and cleared his throat quietly.

            _Maybe I could just offer to walk her home_; he mused, and cocked his head as she gazed at him. Ice blue eyes could be made out, even at their distance, and for a moment, he couldn't move, as though something in her stare locked him firmly in place.

            After a moment, he shook himself out of his reverie, and made his way over to her. She kept on her way, not looking back at him again. She seemed in her own little world... she didn't look as though she were paying attention. He thought it looked as though a carriage could hit her and she wouldn't even have noticed it approaching.

            Shaking off the thought, he approached her from behind, pace steady so as not to startle her. When he had seen her face, he had supposed she was around twenty, if that. A dangerous age to be walking alone, especially if one didn't know how to defend theirself. Tom... well, he had his twin Colt pistols to keep him reassured.

            "Miss?" he called to her, receiving no response for his troubles. Still, he persisted... maybe she hadn't heard him. "Miss, are you all right? You need someone to walk you-"

            She had turned abruptly. _Don't follow her, Sawyer, just don't follow her. She wants to be left alone, clearly. I said _don't_ follow her!_

            His feet were already carrying him after her steadily. Obviously, something had her spooked, and he wanted to know what it was. It was the gentleman inside of him that wanted to help whenever it bloody could... blasted thing.

            "Miss? Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you!" he called after her again, even as she started to jog, and glanced over her shoulder to see who was chasing her.

            "God dammit," he mumbled, jogging after her, "why do I even bother?" He wasn't even sure of this himself, as he turned a corner. 

            _Why is it _always_ dark alleyways?_ Tom thought angrily, and then cursed under his breath, and turned to go the other way, before hearing something that sounded like glass shatter down noisily that same alley. 

            On instinct, he whirled, and ran down the alley, coming out under a wan lamp overhead that served only to illuminate the still shards of a broken bottle, still wet with whatever had been inside it.

            "What the-"

            That was as far as he got before the young woman stepped out of the shadows, and took in his form curiously, cocking her head to one side. Under her cap, curly black locks could just be seen, pinned back away from her face. She was shorter than him by a good five or six inches, but that didn't stop the chill running down his spine.

            "Why is it that a 'gentleman' will always fret over a lonely woman?" she asked of him in a dreamy voice, sounding distant and lost to the real world.

            Tom made to pace back from her, before a sharp pain in the rear of his skull made him give an abrupt cry, almost faltering on his feet as he clutched his head in shock. He looked up at the young girl, who was smiling at him now almost in intrigue as to his reaction to... to whatever was going on.

            Cursing himself for even following the woman against his better judgement, Tom let out a cry as another wave of searing agony coursed through his skull, threatening to tear it apart any minute. It felt as though someone were ramming white-hot knives into his brain, and twisting them.

            He fell to one knee, one hand still clutching his head as if it would help the pain, gasping desperately for air, eyes clamped shut against it all. The light above seemed so bright now. 

            His other knee gave, and Tom placed a hand on the floor, feeling the cold alley beneath his palm. If he could only reach for his guns...

            Another wave, and then another wracked his skull, and before long he was on his side, curled into what he supposed could have been a safe position if he had known who or what the attacker was. It didn't stop the searing agony from tearing at the interior of his skull. Colours swam in his vision, and everything started to blur.

            Realising too late that he had stepped right into a trap, he just managed to make out the three forms melting out of the shadows before darkness claimed him, and the pain was lost on him altogether.


	2. Eyes Ever Seeing

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter one. Meant a lot to me to get all of those overnight, so I went off and wrote this as soon as I got them all, I was just so inspired. No need to fret, Graymoon74, and Naitriab, Silver Bullet is perfectly safe. You need not worry about me falling behind with that one. Just because this update was so speedy, I'm afraid that may not mean they all will be, like they have with my other LXG fic. There aren't quite so many owies in this update, but hopefully enough to... wet your appetite? Thanks for checking back, and I look forward to your feedback.

**Update List: **So far, on this fic's update list (via e-mail), I have got _angelic katty_ and _MJ Rosemary_. Additions to this list are always welcome. Just let me know, and I'll be glad to take your name down.

*           *           *

            Though he was never one to snoop, unless it was absolutely necessary or downright intriguing, Rodney Skinner, gentleman thief, found it very difficult to resist nosing around what Nemo had been doing. Of course, after he'd found out the reason for what the man _had_ been doing, Skinner's own appetite had plummeted and altogether vanished in a heartbeat.

            Mina had been hungry... and not in the way Skinner quite often craved a steak or something of the sort. Of course, a steak wasn't far off what Mina had been given, although he supposed one would be closer in describing it as a bloody slab of raw meat.

            His stomach churning, he made his way back to his cabin for a good stiff drink, trying not to think about the way he had seen the beautiful vampire woman tear into the meat... of course, he failed, and soon was pouring himself a good measure of scotch to take away the feeling of nausea. 

            With a satisfied gulp, he managed to down half of the liquid, and felt it numbing him already. Drink, supposedly, on an empty stomach was never a positive thing, but Skinner was glad for the chance to get absolutely intoxicated as soon as possible after seeing that display. 

            But then again, what had he expected? Cutlery, a napkin, etiquette? She was a starving, deprived vampire for goodness' sake. He shouldn't have expected anything other than what he had seen.

            Sighing, he slouched himself in an armchair he had managed to persuade good old Nemo to give him, and held his glass in his hand, taking a hold of his black wide-peaked trilby in the other from the table nearby and proceeding to spin it leisurely. He resisted the urge to whistle with newfound contentment.

*           *           *

            Furrowing his brow deeply at the apparent failure, he set down his papers and leaned back in defeat at his desk. He removed his pocket watch that dangled as ever from his waistcoat, and perused the hands as they ticked away the seconds. 

            Doctor Henry Jekyll had been trying for a good solid time now to try and rid himself of his brutish alter ego, Edward Hyde, who had, for many months, terrorised both England and the Rue Morgue in Paris. He regretted these crimes with every ounce of his soul, and wished for nothing more than to be free of that which he had burdened himself with foolishly.

            _"That's right, Henry, don't forget you're the one who started all of this,"_ chattered the grating voice of the monster in his skull, and he slammed the small watch shut in his hand when he caught the ugly reflection in its glass face.

            "Just leave me alone, Edward..." he started, heavy-hearted, "I'm in no mood."

            With a chuckle, the brute persisted, _"Of course you're in no mood. You never are in the mood, Henry. Of course, if you were to-"_

            "Don't even think about it. I'm not touching that vile stuff. And besides," he added with a somewhat triumphant smile, "I've already handed every single vial over to Nemo for safekeeping."

            Henry was pretty sure that if Hyde had been a separate entity then, he would have smashed every single item in the room... including Jekyll himself. Glad that he wasn't, Henry tidied his papers, relieved that the other personality -he shuddered to think of it as another side of himself- was subdued for the time being, having fallen silent in his mind.

            Left in peace, Henry stood from his desk, thoroughly exhausted from many hours spent wracking his brains over the papers he proceeded to tidy into separate files. Still nothing, after all his efforts. Was he condemned to live as two beings for as long as he continued to draw breath?

*           *           *

            It was with a sudden intake of sharp breath that Tom Sawyer awoke, and his first instinct was to grab his guns... which he almost immediately realised was impossible. He tilted his head upwards, green eyes taking in the fact that his hands were shackled over him with short chains and tight cuffs to a pipe above. The chains themselves were no more than ten inches long, not allowing for much movement. 

            Looking around hurriedly to try and take in as much of his situation as possible before he attempted to formulate a plan to free himself -if it was possible-, Tom saw with a heavy heart that there was nothing else in the dimly lit room. A pair of lamps at the front and back of the room served to illuminate poorly, and he guessed that the place hadn't been cleaned for many months, if ever at all.

            Given the slight slack in the chains that kept his hands locked overhead, Tom could move his feet slightly, and even marginally bend his knees. Thinking it over for a moment, and finally gritting his teeth, he drew his feet up entirely from the floor, trying to loosen the chains from the thick pipe above. He managed to dislodge an impressive amount of dust that caused him to cough, before he heard a key turn in the thick metal door set before him.

            His boots hit the floor with a resounding thump, and he stared intently, waiting with breath held for someone to come through that opening. A silhouetted form could be made out simply standing, staring in at him with shaded eyes. He swallowed.

            Were they mocking him by simply standing there... or were they trying to antagonise him into speaking? Whatever they were doing, the latter was what they achieved.

            "Who's there?" He couldn't make out the form properly in the poor light, and he narrowed his eyes to try and help the problem. Needless to say, this was far from effective. 

            As a response, he received the sound of the form's footsteps entering the room further. He noticed something about their resonance at once, and felt his confusion double. A woman?

            This was not the same young lady he had foolishly tried to help on the street. No, she was older, this woman, by many years. She was at least forty, if not slightly older, but her face betrayed her age and then some. She appeared as the kind of person who had seen too much in too short a time. She had ebony hair pulled back out of her face with pins that held it up in a bun that reminded him very much suddenly of Mina, and she glared at him as one would an insect with ice blue eyes.

            He made to restate his question, but the sharp stabbing pain re-entered his head, and he gasped as he closed his eyes and threw his head back at the sudden intensity it reached.

            "You will most likely come to understand very quickly," the woman was saying in a stern yet faraway voice, "that my dear friend Juliana often enjoys using her talents far too often."

            Forcing his eyes to open, though it pained him, Tom saw the ghost of smile on the older woman's lips. He also managed to decipher, through the dishevelled bangs of blonde hair in his face, another form in the doorway. She stood stock still, her back rigid as though set with a pole, and her gaze intense upon him.

            It was her... _she_ was doing this to him.

            With a slight inclination of her head, the woman succeeded in making Tom yell in pain again, and he lowered his head as if to show he was willing to listen to whatever they had to say. It didn't work, and the woman persisted in her... whatever it was that she was doing. 

            "Juliana..." muttered the first woman, and slowly the pain ebbed away like water trickling through a crack and disappearing, "patience. Let me say what needs to be heard, and then you can continue."

            _Then I hope this takes a long time_, Tom found himself thinking, grateful for the lapse in the agony. 

            "My name is Amelia Kendrick," the first woman informed him, standing before him defiantly with a clear English accent, almost proud. "Juliana Shaw is an associate of mine, one of three. You have met one other... briefly." She smiled, though there was no happiness there. "My daughter, Elizabeth." Leaning closer to him only slightly, she added in a harsh whisper, "And what a fine lure she was for you, Special Agent Thomas Sawyer."

            Tom's head snapped up to hers, and their eyes locked at once. How did she know who he was? How _could_ she know? 

            _What the hell is going on here?_ Whatever it was, he was becoming less comfortable by the second, and it had nothing to do with the shackling of his hands. These people could do things he had never seen or heard of before, even with his information out of the Secret Service, and this woman knew who he was... and _what_ he was clearly, considering what she had called him.

            "What are you?" The question had escaped him before he could rephrase it to sound less offensive, but it was too late. The woman in the doorway took it as an insult, and rewarded him swiftly with another jolt of agony.

            The woman who had introduced herself as Amelia turned her head sharply to Juliana, and scowled. The pain stopped at once. He took a deep breath, and glanced to Amelia once again to see her gaze firmly back upon him.

            "We are all unique in our own ways, Mr. Sawyer, as you will come to realise. Juliana is not to be taken lightly, I might add," Amelia divulged, her words slow and drawn out, as though she were concerned he might not understand. "That mistake once cost a man his sanity... I hear he didn't awaken from the coma for a number of months, and when he did; there was little he could remember. Juliana had destroyed too much of his mind to salvage."

            The cold honesty in her eyes sent another shiver down Tom's spine, and he glanced to the woman Juliana hesitantly. She looked in a trance, lost in her own universe. It only served to unnerve Tom further.

            "My daughter... well, I will leave that for you to discover on your own," Amelia continued, sounding almost bored with her explanation now. "My final companion in this is one Gregory Wright. I expect he'll be along any moment."

            Juliana stepped out of the doorway then to permit another figure entry, and they stepped over the threshold with a kind of stride and presence that reminded Tom of a predator. It was ever wary, but eager, as if yearning for the kill. Deep brown eyes took only moment to look him over, and then his lean face travelled to Amelia. This had to be Gregory Wright. His head of black hair served only to bring up the memory of the insufferable Dorian Gray, though this man's was shorter and absent of even the slightest curl. It hung on his brow and around his ears limply. There was a keen edge in his voice as he said, "I see our... 'guest', is awake, dear Amelia."

            "Indeed he is, Gregory," Amelia responded, confirming Tom's suspicion of the other man's identity. "I thought you had forgotten all about us."

            Though their words sounded affectionate and perhaps flirtatious, when their eyes met there was nothing there, a void between them that confused. They seemed to only suffer each other, not exist peacefully. Tom wondered what had transpired between the two when the brown eyes of Gregory fell upon him once again so suddenly that it made Tom start.

            A smile crept onto the other's face as he edged toward Tom, and despite himself and the fact that he knew it to be useless, he tried to creep back and away from the eerie gaze. The grin was almost manic now, as he reached a hand into his grey overcoat and withdrew an object that gleamed in the pale light.

            Tom clenched his fists when realisation set in. He glanced between the three rapidly, and then rested his green eyes resolutely back upon the flawless blade of the stiletto in Gregory's scarred hand.


	3. Belonging

**A/N: **I'm glad to see you're all enjoying this story. I don't know how long it will be either, so I can't tell you that yet. I do know, however, that it is intriguing to write. As I said, I'm happy you're all able to get into it. I wasn't sure at first, but you've all reassured me :) This chapter is a bit more... unusual, and a tad violent maybe. Then again, maybe not. A few acknowledgements, I think, are in order...

**Naitriab: **Sorry to hear you're not a big Sawyer fan. I, unfortunately, am. Don't mean to disappoint, but you're going to be seeing a lot of Tommy boy in chapters to come. Hope you'll still find enough about the story to stick with us though.

**A. L. Nowicki: **That means an awful lot to me. Thanks so much! You should have seen my smile when I got your review!

**angelic katty:** Hope the suspense isn't too bad. I'm trying to keep a sense of... intrigue about the story. Not a very good explanation, but I hope it consoles you a little.

**Sethoz: **_Please_ don't O-D... remember what you're doing to me ;) This isn't payback, this is just... okay, maybe it _is_ payback :D Muahahaha! No, really though, love your story, and I'm happy you like mine. All will become clear soon.

**LotRseer3350: **Hello again. People obviously love to see Tom in angst stories... odd that. Hope to see you more in the future!

**Graymoon74: **You shall see soon enough, my friend... you shall see! 

*           *           *

            Only a couple of hours after encountering her most primal urges, -with a certain sense of dread too- Mina Harker felt much better for having asked for Nemo's help, and had retired to the library for a spot of light reading. This was where she encountered Dr. Jekyll with his nose in a book at one of the corner tables in a comfortable chair.

            Mina raised a delicate feminine eyebrow, and paced over to him gracefully, her skirts trailing behind her. When standing over him, she craned her neck to see the cover of the book; soon realising there was no title. She frowned and furrowed her brow.

            "Oh, Mrs. Harker, you startled me," Jekyll said all of a sudden, having noticed her presence. He smiled nervously and gave off a stuttering laugh. "I didn't even hear you come in."

            "My apologies, Doctor," Mina said to him, even as he gestured to the available chair opposite him, which looked equally as comfortable. She took it, and realised with a certain sense of satisfaction that it was indeed a place of comfort. "I did not mean to intrude."

            "No, no, not at all," Jekyll fumbled, and slipped a tassel hanging from the spine of the book into his place so he could resume later. He placed the book on the small round table between them. "I just didn't expect company so late. It is, after all, almost midnight."

            "Yes, well," Mina began, clearing her throat, and neatening her red cloth tie around her neck and on her chest, "the later hours are often where I feel more... myself, unfortunately, at times."

            Jekyll nodded and mumbled, "Ah, I see."

            Mina sat there; legs crossed neatly one over the other, and looked down at the book. It appeared Jekyll was looking at her, but she dismissed this, chose not to inquire after it. She quite often caught Jekyll, Skinner or Tom Sawyer 'subtlely' watching her, but after Dorian Gray, she was quite content to let them be with their desires.

            "If I may be so bold, Doctor," Mina said lightly, her voice carrying around the shelving about them, "as to inquire on the identity of this book? I see no title or author name on it." She nodded to it with her head, and looked to the somewhat mousy man patiently. 

            Jekyll ran a hand over his copper hair, perhaps to flatten it, or maybe to stall for time, she did not know. His forever-wide eyes took in her face, and he smiled. "It is my own. A collection of notes I have accumulated over the years in my line of work. I was merely looking them over to pass the time when you came in."

            "I see," Mina added with a smile, intrigued. She thought about asking to take a look, but then decided that would be akin to inquiring about reading someone's diaries. Surely this was a very private thing.

            So it was no surprise when Jekyll took his book in his hand, and laid it safely on his lap, as if protecting it from Mina. He cleared his throat quietly and hurriedly, and asked, "Where are we meeting Agent Sawyer?" A clear change of subject.

            "New York docks," Mina replied, still eyeing his book for a moment before meeting his gaze. "This time tomorrow evening. I expect he'll be quite eager to get back."

            "Yes, he didn't exactly seem thrilled when he got that message, did he?"

            "No," Mina agreed, dragging out the word somewhat as she stared at the floor. "It seems he is growing quite fond of the _League_. I suppose he feels as though he belongs here."

            Jekyll considered her seriously and pensively for a moment, before asking, "And do you think he does? Belong, that is..."

            Mina looked up to him with a grim smile. "Don't we all, Doctor?"

            Jekyll stared for a moment, and then uttered a slight laugh, nodding. "Of course." He sighed wearily. "If you will excuse me, Mrs. Harker, I can feel my bed calling for me."

            "Goodnight, Doctor," Mina said to him as he stood, and she watched him half-bow politely, leaving the room shortly thereafter. With a sigh of her own, Mina perused the titles of the books about her at length from her chair, and then stood to inspect them closer.

*           *           *

            The stiletto had ended up being the least of his troubles, he had soon found out. It turned out that Wright had no real intention of doing him serious harm with the blade, but still; it served its purpose nevertheless. Not only did it cause him to flinch every time he saw it flash dangerously in the wan light, Wright seemed to have experience in using such a weapon without causing too much permanent damage.

            Tom Sawyer hung from his restraints, now free of his shirt, waistcoat and jacket, which had been placed on a small table on the other side of the room, where he could just make out the shapes of his holsters and pistols. He didn't have a hope of reaching them.

            Juliana Shaw still stood before him, rewarding him with a painful reminder of her presence whenever he so much as looked her in the eye. She didn't seem very fond of eye contact in the slightest. So it was that Tom avoided meeting her gaze whenever possible. Her punishment was just as bad as what Wright had been working at.

            Amelia was long gone from the room, having disappeared some two hours previous to perhaps tend to her young daughter, or rest. Tom didn't know, and right now, it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the agony.

            He let out a short cry as Wright found another delicate area across his bare back, and shallowly ran the blade along it a little way. Tom felt the running of warm blood down his skin, and hissed through clenched teeth, clamping his eyes shut.

            Wright chuckled dryly, and Tom opened his eyes, realising one of his knees had given way. He slowly regained his footing, and stood again, clenching his fists. He waited for another attack with the knife, but none came, for the first time since Wright had revealed his weapon. Tom had to have at least a dozen shallow cuts over his chest and back now. That, on top of Juliana's mental attacks had almost driven him into unconsciousness several times, but he had managed to fight it each time... though he was unsure why he bothered.

            Tom avoided Wright's penetrating gaze at first when he came round before him, stained stiletto in his right hand. He waited for a blow from a fist or something similar, but that didn't come either. 

            Tom raised his head, looking Gregory Wright right in the eye. The other man stared right into Tom, his brown eyes dark and sinister, boring into the young American deeper and deeper with every unbearable second that passed.

            Still ignorant as to the reason for any of this, Tom saw Wright raise his left hand; palm exposed, and reach for his face. Tom flinched subconsciously without thinking, and glanced momentarily, perhaps accidentally, to Juliana. She did nothing, merely watched.

            Wright's hand made contact almost tenderly against Tom's neck and bottom jaw, clasping slightly to keep him still, fingers pressing gently against the back of Tom's head. 

            Before Tom could move his head to free himself of Wright's grip, vivid images flashed in his vision, so suddenly it made him inhale sharply with shock.

            _He was running with Huckleberry along the river, shouting about something he had just seen that he wanted to show his friend._

_            Flash..._

_            He was watching Becky Thatcher talk with the other kids, Huck standing beside him, talking unheard to his friend, who couldn't take his eyes off the pretty young girl._

_            Flash..._

_            Being recruited into the American Secret Service._

_            Flash..._

_            Partnered with Huck Finn and running, almost a mirror of when they had been children, except this time with fully loaded guns in their grasp, the innocence and childhood happiness gone, replaced with urgency and determination._

_            Flash!_

_            The Phantom... cackling maniacally, seeing the two Agents somewhat at his mercy. A gunshot._

_            Flash!_

_            Huck lay dying on the floor, bleeding from a fatal wound to his chest, gasping for breath, trying desperately to stay alive. Tom was by his side, trying not to show his distress, having let the Phantom escape, too worried about his best friend and partner to move. _

_            Flash!_

_            Huck... dead, in his arms._

            "No!" Tom screamed, wrenching his head out of Wright's grip when he realised it was all in his mind, and he wasn't reliving it, though the terrible pain at having his childhood friend die in his arms was suddenly very fresh in his mind.

            Tears stung in his vision, and he breathed rapidly, in shock, and closed his eyes, remembering just what was going on, and whom he had before him.

            "Well," Wright was saying, voice filled with mirth, "that was interesting."


	4. Broken?

**A/N: **I am _so_ sorry this took so long. Had a bit of the dreaded writer's block, and wanted to scream. But never fear! Chapter four is here! And I have an answer for anyone sitting there in their computer chair thinking, _Hmm, why do people **always** kidnap poor Tom Sawyer?_ Well, my friends, I have what I like to call a logical explanation for this. Look at the _League_; you've got your split-personality monster-man, your invisible man, your vampire and then your martial arts expert. Who would you pick on... other than the young secret agent who carries a couple of guns? I know my answer...

**Naitriab: **Oh, that's the plan... let's hope :)

**Sethoz: **... love you too, buddy...

**MJ: **Dark? Try 'amazingly so'... well, you'll have to wait and see. Glad you liked the end of 'Belonging'.

**LotRseer3350: **Please don't have a panic attack! Bear with me? :(

**Fayra: **Welcome! Nice to see you, and glad I can keep you intrigued. Chapter 3 was the most difficult to write, so I'm happy it's the best in your opinion. As for Quatermain... well... just wait and see ;)

*           *           *

            The three of them stood in the control centre of the Nautilus, waiting for Nemo's word of how long it was now until they reached America. They watched the stern man make his calculations and talk to his First Mate, Patel. The two parted, and Nemo faced his companions.

            "We will be at our destination in twelve hours. Not long now," he told them. Mina nodded, and looked to Jekyll and Skinner, who was visible in his coat, trilby, pince-nez and white greasepaint. They nodded also, and departed the bridge, thanking the Captain for his news.

            "Not long now then, eh?" Skinner said, with a tilt of his head to look at his associates as they strode along beside him down the corridor. It was nearing lunch, and they had all silently and collectively decided, it seemed, to wait there for the Captain and the meal. 

            "Only a few more hours until we arrive," Jekyll agreed, hands behind his back as always, hair styled flat and neat on his head. "What are our plans after we collect Agent Sawyer?"

            "I do not know," Mina voiced, and gave the lightest of shrugs beneath her blouse and red necktie. "I suspect the Captain will ask us what we wish to do next. Perhaps Tom will not be ready to leave just yet."

            Skinner chuckled. "I don't see why not though. He's always itchin' to go somewhere other than where he is."

            Jekyll nodded silently in his agreement, but Mina glanced across the doctor's front to observe the man. "We shall have to wait and see what he says, won't we?"

            "Indeed we shall, dear Mina," Skinner teased with a cocky grin, and Mina rolled her eyes, leading the way into the dining hall.

*           *           *

            _Tom looked down on Quatermain and M, the knife of Sanderson Reed still pressed to his throat threateningly. One of his arms was held behind his back, and he knew better than to struggle. He saw the look of utter triumph on M's smug face, moments before Allan Quatermain whirled, Webley revolver in his hand, and let off a shot._

_            Sanderson Reed jolted with the impact behind him, and Tom ducked down and away, looking up moments later once the knife had clattered to the floor to see Allan with a blade lodged in his back. M was making his escape through a crack in the wall. M jumped._

_            Tom launched himself off the upper level, landing, and running over to the crack in the wall, looking through it to see M gliding to the snow down below. Tom turned and retrieved the elephant gun, Matilda, going to Quatermain, who revealed his shattered glasses from inside his pocket. _

_            "Get 'im," Quatermain rasped, and Tom ran to the crack again, gun in his hand._

_            Flash!_

_            "I got him!" Tom said triumphantly, turning back and halting at once as he saw Allan struggling for breath, slumped on some old furniture. He was watching Tom, and he nodded. When he spoke, his voice was forced, very weak, as he said, "May this new century be yours, son... as the old one, was mine."_

_            Tom started forward as Allan slumped entirely, going very still. He stopped; realising there was nothing he could do. Allan Quatermain was dead..._

            "Stop!" Tom pleaded, trying to wrench his head out of the double-handed grasp Gregory Wright had on him. He looked into Wright's dark eyes, and saw the smile in them. 

            Perspiring heavily, Tom panted, desperately fighting for air as Wright let go of him. His head lolled forward, too heavy to keep up, and he closed his eyes. He couldn't take much more of this, he knew.

            "My, my," Wright began with humour in his tone, standing beside Juliana, "we do have ourselves a guilt-ridden American Agent, don't we?"

            _Just go away..._ Tom begged internally, too weak to voice his thoughts. _Just leave me alone..._

*           *           *

            Amelia Kendrick travelled briskly, her heels carrying her the distance through the building to the secure room where she had left the American and two of her associates. She had given them long enough. They had to have made some progress by now, surely.

            If not, then she was going to be seriously disappointed in their abilities. Both of them she had known for a time now, and had no reason to doubt them. They were both very capable people, Juliana and Gregory, though she held no love for the latter. He was a vile man, one who reminded her of her late husband, and she took no joy in that whatsoever.

            She reached the large metal door, and opened it carefully in case Gregory or Juliana was behind it. Luckily, both were a little further into the room, standing side by side. Amelia came up beside Juliana, the tallest of the women, and said, "Well?"

            Juliana, as always, was silent, and simply stared at the clearly exhausted figure of Tom Sawyer as he hung from his restraints before them, breathing heavily and perspiring. Amelia raised an eyebrow curiously, and waited for Gregory to explain.

            "Well, it would seem we have ourselves quite the jigsaw puzzle here, dear Amelia," Gregory began, and he sighed in a delicate manner, wiping his hands on a handkerchief, "but I feel that we are very close. In fact, I am so confident, you need not leave the room before we are finished." He paused, even as Sawyer looked up at him, and said, "Juliana?"

            Sawyer screamed loudly, closing his eyes once again immediately, and Amelia waited. She tried to shut out the noise, but it wasn't long until Sawyer stopped, too weak to cry out any longer. She knew he had been abused and deprived... even if not for long, but it still seemed to have had some effect the young man.  

            Gregory, to pass the time whilst Juliana gave the American that last little push, cleaned the blade of his stiletto with the same handkerchief, humming lightly to himself in a distracted manner, eyes never leaving his task.

            Before long, Juliana blinked slowly, and sighed, glancing once to Amelia as a sign. Amelia looked to the auburn-haired woman and cocked her head lightly. She saw the hint of triumph in Juliana's pretty eyes, and smiled, glancing to Gregory. She raised an eyebrow once again.

            Rolling his eyes, Gregory moved himself forward, and took Sawyer by the hair, pulling his head back and up. He was awake, by all meanings of the word, but seemed less than aware. Gregory flashed the stiletto in the light, and there was no flinch. Sawyer just looked at the other man with pained eyes and panted lightly. 

            Narrowing his eyes, Gregory shifted his grip so that he kept Sawyer's head up by holding him by his bottom jaw now, and fell very quiet, which -to Amelia- was a blessing. The man was much too full of himself for her tastes. 

            A moment of utter stillness passed in the room; where the dropping of a pin could be heard as clear as a gunshot, before Gregory released Sawyer's head, letting it loll again, turning back on his two female companions, eyes set firmly on Amelia.

            "All yours, my dear."

            "Gregory, if you persist in calling me that," Amelia began as she moved forward, "I will make you regret the day you first entered this world."

            "Oh, and what a shame that will be," Gregory mocked, and joined Juliana again, stiletto twirling skilfully in his hand, skin mottled with scars from previous incidents he would not explain. Amelia cared very little.

            Amelia stood before Sawyer now, her long skirts hiding her booted feet completely from view, touching the ground around her. She stared intently at the young American, and closed her eyes for a moment, reaching out with every spare fraction of her mind to do as she desired.

            _"Look at me,"_ she projected clearly, extending the barriers of her consciousness to brush against his, their minds starting to link and merge. She waited.

            Slowly, but surely, Tom Sawyer raised his head, and their eyes met.

            Amelia smiled. Reaching up, she released his hands from the manacles restraining them, and heard more than saw him fall to his knees. Idly, she looked down at him as one would on a lower being such as a stray dog or a rat. 

            _"Stand."_

            Though it clearly pained him somewhat, Sawyer managed to push himself with great effort to his feet, wobbling slightly, eyes meeting hers again and locking there this time.

            Amelia stared right back, using everything she had to push and invade his mind deeper and deeper, until she had thoroughly taken over. He fought her, probably without knowing it, his own consciousness being submerged whilst he stood staring blankly at this woman he barely knew. She kept him held in the gaze until she was finished, until she could feel no resistance in his mind, and allowed herself a smile of triumph.

            Keeping her concentration on Sawyer to maximum, she spoke to her companions, "Well done... time for a test, I think."


	5. Rendezvous

**A/N: **This one is quite short I'm afraid, but I though I'd best put something on to keep all you regulars at bay, considering my defences are down at the moment. I will put up a longer chapter when I next get the oppurtunity, but this one is just... how should I put it? A filler?

**panzergal: **Wow... I feel blessed that you've decided to read mine then, considering you're not a Tom fan. Thanks! Much appreciated!

**Naitriab: **Don't worry, my friend, the _League_ were only so few and far between in the first few chapters cuz I wanted to get the story set up nicely. They should definitely feature a lot more frequently now.

**Fayra: **Should I be taking that as compliment...? I'm not so sure... I know you meant it that way, lol. It's just, when you read it out loud, if someone else hears you :-/ Ooh er. Thank you, anyway, I do try...

**drowchild: **Thank you for your kind words. And I believe you and Fayra are on the same track. The first segment should satisfy... that's the aim anyway.

**Graymoon74: **_Please_ don't die! Then I'll never know what happens in _your_ story! *begs* I'm glad I've got you so... agitated? Not sure about that actually, hehehehe. I honestly don't want you in your grave. Glad you hate Juliana, that was my aim to get you to despise the $£%^&. Did I say that out loud...?

**Sethoz: **_I_ personally would never dream of accusing you of copying me, dear friend. But, I am going to poke you mentally until you update both your fics, you evil cliffhanger writer. Arggh... I hope this keeps you happy for a while ;)

*           *            *

            He saw through his own eyes, seeing but blind. He heard everything, the clatters in the alleys and the distant cheers of drunken groups loitering, the hissing of cats as he passed... he heard all of this, but muffled, as though through a closed door. It was as though he was watching himself... from the inside. Wanting to reach out and stop himself from walking, he knew he was powerless.

            Tom Sawyer, or what could be in some cases called Tom Sawyer's consciousness and spirit, had been overpowered, and was being forced down, piece by piece into nothingness, forced to watch helplessly as his body moved, seemingly, quite of its own accord.

            But he knew what was going on here. He had figured it out, even though he had tried to fight it with every ounce of strength he had had left in him after Wright's torture, and Juliana's mental abuse. Amelia Kendrick had taken over his body, and was using it for her own purposes. Every now and then he would clearly hear an internal whispered command in a harsh feminine voice, and could do nothing to prevent his body from doing so, stop his mouth from saying what would be said.

            Tom knew where his body was headed, and he was trying with everything he had to get it to stop anyway he could. Nothing was working, not that he had many options to choose from. He was simply just trying to win back his own mind, though he secretly knew it too weak to accept him at the moment. It seemed quite content to be under the command of that woman.

            It was a most unpleasant sensation... much like being submerged in water, held under against your will, except without the threat of drowning, or the equivalent.

            At least... he hoped so.

*           *            *

            Skinner stood on the dock with Jekyll, Nemo and Mina Harker and whistled a jaunty tune to himself, trying to help pass the time. It was getting close to the prearranged rendezvous time, and Skinner noticed the good doctor beside him check his trusty pocket watch every couple of minutes. 

            Skinner was dressed and painted for the 'occasion', just waiting patiently with his companions for the lone American to emerge from the shadows of the surrounding New York area. It was taking too long... Sawyer was taking his sweet time in getting here.

            That was when he caught a sound off to the left in front of them, and Mina stepped forward slightly, chin lifted as if she were trying to pick out smells on the almost non-existent breeze. A soft smile on her lips told Skinner it was friend, not foe. 

            A form dissolved out of the shadows and strode confidently but slowly towards them, blonde locks of hair in their face, green eyes visible even in the wan light. Dressed as ever in black, grey and white, Tom Sawyer hadn't changed a bit in the short space of time since they had last seen him.

            "'Ello, Sawyer, did you miss us?" Skinner quipped, and smiled at his friend.

            It was a moment before Sawyer returned the gesture, and he nodded. "Good to see you all again. Am I late?"

            Jekyll was, in fact, checking his watch at that precise moment, and he stumbled over his words for just a second before saying, "No, not at all. Right on time, in fact." He laughed nervously.

            Mina stepped forward to greet Sawyer, and she smiled at him, a haunting expression ghosting her features for a brief moment, one that confused Skinner, and the American too it seemed.

            "Something wrong?" Sawyer asked of the vampire woman, and she shook her head, laughing, touching her temple with a gloved hand. She opened her blue eyes and met his gaze.

            "No, not at all," she replied. "It must just be these streets. All the smells bleeding together." 

            There always seemed to be a special emphasis on a word such as 'blood' or 'bleeding' with Mina Harker, and Skinner didn't have to use much of his brain power to figure that one out. It was pretty self-explanatory.

            "It is good to see you well, Agent Sawyer," Nemo greeted in his usual distant, yet warm manner. He shook his hand. "Tell me, is there anywhere in particular you would care for us to visit now that you have returned to the _League_? No one else can seem to make up their mind." There was a soft chuckle from the regal man, one that the thief almost missed.

            Skinner raised an eyebrow, and listened to Sawyer as he replied, "Actually, would it be too much trouble to stay in the area for a while? Some friends of mine have come into town for a visit, and they want me to... show them around."

            Skinner, Jekyll, Nemo and Mina exchanged glances, before they all either nodded or mumbled their acknowledgements.

            "Not a problem," Jekyll muttered with a smile.

            "Of course, Mr. Sawyer," Nemo said to him, and half-bowed, disappearing into the ship to inform his crew they would be staying in New York for a while.

            "Will we be seeing these mates of yours then, Sawyer?" Skinner inquired eagerly, itching to go out for a bit of exploring in this rather vast landscape that stretched all around him. Sawyer looked to him. 

            "Actually..." Sawyer began slowly, "they're not really the social type. I don't think they'd take your... condition much in stride." Sawyer smiled with a light, almost inaudible laugh.

            Skinner nodded. "Fair enough. I'm not everyone's cup of tea, I can understand. Looks like it's just us lot then," he said to his two remaining companions.

            Mina sighed delicately, and smiled at Sawyer. "Are these old friends of yours?"

            Sawyer shrugged. "You could say that. It seems like forever since we've seen one another." 

            "I see," Mina agreed light-heartedly with a nod, her hands knitted in front of her. "Well, I would like the oppurtunity to meet them personally, if there is a chance in the near future."

            "Oh, I'm sure you'll get to see them at one point or another." Sawyer smiled again, and tucked his hands in his pockets gently. 

            "Here, Sawyer," Skinner began, finally placing in his mind what was wrong about him. Something had been bothering him since he'd set eyes on the young man, and he'd finally realised what was missing. "Where's that gun of yours?" Skinner laughed, and Jekyll smiled. "Never thought I'd see the day where you where without it."

            There was a moment of stillness and silence between them, and Skinner glanced between the faces of his company, before Sawyer finally said, "It's in my room. I'll have to pick it up later. Guess I forgot all about it."

            Skinner grinned, and nodded. "Comin' inside for a 'welcome back' drink, Sawyer?"

            The other man nodded and followed him, trailed by Mina and Jekyll, back into the Nautilus.


	6. A Woman Scorned

**A/N: **Sorry again about the shortness of chapter 5, couldn't be helped... especially not since writer's block keeps giving me a poke with that horrible stick. *glares at writers' block* Grrr... stupid thing. Anyway, this part isn't as suspenseful as I would like, but it does further the plot. Bear with me :D Ah yes, character information is now up on my website (check out my bio), in the Fanfiction & OC section, towards the bottom. It has character biographies, and some photographs. Feel free to take a look, and don't forget to let me know what you think ;)

**crystal: **Younger daughter you say? Ah, yes, good Elizabeth... don't worry, she's coming...

**Sethoz: **Thanks for the -perhaps- unintentional idea, buddy!

**Graymoon74: **You are perfectly welcome. Where would I be without your feedback? I'll tell you... in a hole, frowning with a blanket wrapped around me, with a pen and paper, struggling for ideas... perhaps an extreme image, but... ah well. I'm glad you really like it, and as always, THANKS SO MUCH for your kind and generous words.

*           *           *

            Mina sat with the men in the room they used frequently for gatherings and meals, and listened to Skinner prattle on about what Tom had missed in his short absence. The American himself simply listened, keeping very quiet, but smiling at Mina sporadically. She returned the gesture, and sipped the tea she had requested from Nemo, who shared a pot with her.

            Jekyll had politely declined to drink, and he was looking rather pale and lethargic. Then again, it was closing on two in the morning now, and she was not entirely surprised that he soon stood, announcing he was going to retire to bed. He apologised, without need, and exited the room quietly.

            Tom and Skinner sat opposite one another; both with a glass of scotch each, though the former had barely touched his. He seemed to have accepted it merely to be polite, which wasn't needed in the presence of Rodney Skinner, Mina knew. Skinner took odd gaps in his talking to sip at his alcoholic beverage, and before long -after many refills- he was slurring a little.

            "Perhaps it's time you went to bed," Tom said to him eventually when Skinner successfully lost his train of thought four times in a row and restarted his story... that he had already told.

            _That man needs to try a cup of tea once in a while... he needs to realise that he doesn't _have_ to burn the midnight oil with alcohol._ Mina sighed, rolling her eyes discreetly behind full lashes, a slight turn of the head revealing the notion to Tom Sawyer only.

            He did not react, and soon was watching Captain Nemo escort the invisible man mumbling from the room.

            "Nah, I'm all right, honest! I jus' need a drink, that's all-"

            "Now, now, Mr. Skinner, we've been over this several times before..." Nemo's voice faded away as they disappeared down the long corridor, and vanished around a bend.

            Tom turned his attention back on Mina after observing his untouched measure of scotch, and said, "May I walk you to your room?"

            _Not like Tom to be so... prim and proper_, she thought with a lifting of a delicate brow. She smiled nevertheless. _Perhaps it is just the time away, back in service. He reminds me of the Tom Sawyer I met in Dorian's library all those months ago._ Her smile grew, and she nodded. "Thank you. That's very kind."

            He stood from the table, and waited for her to join him. She walked around to meet him, and they strode side by side from the room. He looked his usual self, dressed exactly how she remembered him, although without his Winchester close by he seemed slightly different somehow. She was just used to the rifle, she supposed. At least his revolvers were still present and visible, a reassuring sign.

            _Do I need reassurance?_ Mina cocked her head as she walked, ever so slightly so as not to alert Tom to her musings. _There is something different about him... perhaps it is just the way he smells. For a moment it seemed like..._

            Was that the perfume of a woman she could smell? Mina turned her head to him, and subtlely closed the distance a fraction, taking a slight breath in to try and confirm her suspicions.

            _That **is** a woman... what has he been doing?_ She realised then it was none of her business, and tried to busy her mind with other things, failing rather spectacularly. Tom didn't seem the kind to go running off with women, not that she had ever suspected anything other than... now she was losing track. Where were they?

            "Oh," she muttered, realising they were at her cabin, where she had left her door open ajar, carelessly, in her hurry to go out with the others and meet Tom. He stood before her now, green eyes searching her posture, as if trying to ascertain her thoughts.

            She cleared her throat, and laughed lightly, embarrassed for her distraction on Tom and his proximity to another perfumed woman. "I hadn't even realised where we are. I was in a world of my own."

            "I noticed," he replied with a nod, shaking his hair out of his face afterwards, for a moment looking annoyed with it. It had never bothered him before. "It's quite all right. I know the feeling sometimes, not quite sure who I am or even what I'm doing." He laughed.

            Mina smiled and gave a light laugh as well, nodding again. "Well, if you will excuse me, Tom, it is _quite_ late, and I should get some sleep. I expect I shall see you at the breakfast table?"

            He didn't nod, simply said, "I should expect so, Mrs. Harker. Goodnight." Then he gave her a half-smile and walked away quietly, his footfalls soft and almost stealthy.

            Mina watched him without realising, and when she noticed what she was doing, she shook her head, slipped into her room, and firmly closed and locked the door behind her before retiring to bed and peaceful welcoming slumber.

*           *           *

            Gregory Wright, cynical though he was, watched Amelia Kendrick with a sense of bizarre optimism. He had faith in her abilities, and saw slow rhythmic breathing, the movement of her eyes behind their lids, and the slow smile that crept across her lined but beautiful face.

            Gregory shared in the apparent pleasure; a slight grin forming on his own features, shortly before the thick door opened behind him, slowly, swinging closed almost silently. It was Juliana and Elizabeth Kendrick. The latter was almost always in her room honing her own abilities, which Gregory actually found quite formidable for a girl of her age. The young woman was just turned twenty-one, and what an attractive little being she was turning out to be. But Gregory knew better than to try and take advantage of the young lady... she was not to be underestimated.

            Amelia spoke to them without opening her eyes, her voice distant and dreamy, "It is done... I am bringing him back now. He will be here shortly." She turned her head slightly in his direction. "Gregory... meet him at the door."

            Gregory sighed loudly, and noted that Juliana _and_ Elizabeth regarded with some measure of contempt. He knew very well they only kept him around so they could further their 'goals'. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he strode from the room, thinking to himself how easy it would be to simply leave and let them do what they liked with the American brat.

*           *           *

            Elizabeth Kendrick sighed scornfully as Gregory left the room, and she glared after him icily, beyond irritated that she had to tolerate his presence. She was no great fan of men... in that she hated every single one of them on this godforsaken planet. If it were up to her, and if she had the right power and resources, she would exterminate every single one of them.

            Perhaps her mother would allow her to take out some of her contempt on the American, whom she had only met once, briefly. Her mother had kept her concealed... apparently to save her talents for later, though Elizabeth could not comprehend why. Why was she such a secret? What was all the mask and mystery about in regards to her identity and abilities? All she wanted was a bit of fun... why wouldn't her mother let her have fun?

            But as she stood there with her own thoughts, beside Juliana, her mind wandered back to her father, and she withheld the urge to scream, and the woman next to her noticed that the glass shades covering the lamps rattled and trembled, as if frightened.

*           *           *

            He felt himself slowly returned to his own consciousness, and started to feel his own limbs responding to _his_ mind once again, grateful for the small release at least. It was only then that he realised he had been chained as before, and that four people stood in front of him, not three. He recognised the newcomer, and was immediately wary. She stood between Juliana Shaw and Amelia Kendrick, the same black hair and ice blue eyes as the latter. This was her daughter, Elizabeth.

            Her eyes did not waver from his face, and Tom suppressed a shudder.

            Amelia held up an object with a sly smile, and chuckled lightly. It was a book, one he recognised... but how had she... then he realised how she had acquired it, and his heart sank.

            _You did it... you stole it. You let her control you, and she stole that from the Nautilus... from Mina._

            "I suppose you recognise this, don't you, Agent Sawyer?" Amelia began quietly, and Tom had to strain to hear her. "You would be correct if you were just thinking that, whilst in control of your body and mind, I used you to collect this from Mina Harker's room... whilst she slept, I might add."

            Tom glared. He hadn't even noticed... had she submerged him that much? He struggled against his chains futilely, and was surprised when the internal agony did not come.

            Amelia tossed the book aside, having lost interest in it now. "A satisfactory test, I might add. I have no doubt further endeavours will succeed likewise."

            "What do you want?" Tom asked immediately, and Juliana narrowed her eyes warningly. He ignored her, understanding what it might bring. Gregory cocked his head, and raised an eyebrow with intrigue. Elizabeth never changed her cold expression.

            "Ah," Amelia breathed, seating herself in a wooden chair he could not remember seeing beforehand. "You still have not figured it out?"

            "What is there to figure out?" he demanded, his patience far from lost. He was in pain, and he had just stolen something from Mina Harker, a dear friend of his. Tom had had enough of being used, and being ignorant as to why. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. "What do you want with me? I won't betray the _League_."

            "Oh, but you will," Amelia snapped, standing and walking over to him so quickly it startled him. Their gazes locked firmly as she continued; "There is little you can do to stop me from taking what is mine."

            Elizabeth shifted slightly in the background, but remained silent.

            "There are many things beyond your comprehension, Agent Sawyer," Amelia pressed on, the pain and rage in her own voice frightening enough in itself now. "There is much you do not know about your precious _League_... about your dear friends." She paused, staring at him with hatred and anger.

            "Many years ago, I was married, and not happily. My husband, though I had once fallen in love with him, was a monster of a human being, and took great pleasure in beating the one thing I held dear in this world..." Her eyes floated to Elizabeth, who had visibly tensed. "He abused my daughter, though I tried to distract his attention and his fists onto myself as much as possible. Of course, this was not very often... luckily though, Elizabeth miraculously discovered her own talents."

            She stopped, and when she spoke again after a moment, her tone was lower, more threatening. "My daughter is no great fan of men such as yourself, Mr. Sawyer, and she has killed many, in more horrific ways than you can comprehend." Another pause, this one -he knew- for affect more than anything. "Her first victim was my husband... her father. She was nine at the time. Many more have followed, Agent Sawyer, and she holds no remorse for her deeds."

            Juliana lifted a brow this time, and it looked as though she was amused. Elizabeth had released some of the tension in her limbs, and she appeared more at ease, if only slightly. Still, she glared. Tom avoided her gaze.

            "Not long after this, I met another man, one whom I loved deeply, with all my heart. He was a kind, caring man, who protected my daughter and I with every ounce of strength in his body. Even Elizabeth cared for him to some degree, and that is an achievement, let me tell you. My lover and I, we even bore a son, a child we intended to keep from all the evils of the world..."

            Tom knew that her trailing off wasn't due to happy memories, and he tensed, waiting for the conclusion.

            "We failed... it was one night, six months after my son's birth, that it came. My lover and I were out for a stroll under the moonlight, our son too, and then... I have never seen so much malice and evil in so short a time."

            When their eyes met anew, there were angry, pained tears shining in them. She gripped his lower jaw and held it in a vice-like grip.

            "You, see, until that night I had never considered vampires to be more than a myth... a legend. Of course, I was wrong. When I returned home that night, shaken and scarred, my lover and son did not return with me... they had been slaughtered by your _friend_."

            _Oh my god..._

            "Your... _she_ killed them, drank their blood as if they were nothing more than a meal to her, and left them lying in the street like they were nothing!" Her grip tightened, and he winced. "She murdered my child... the man I loved, and showed no remorse. You ask why I am doing this, Agent Sawyer?"

            She waited until he looked her in the eye again, and she was practically shaking with unrivalled rage.

            "Perhaps you should ask your friend, Wilhelmina Harker..."


	7. Suffering

**A/N:** I know it's an evil story, and it's only going to get more and more evil. This chapter chops and changes a bit for scenery and POVs, but we get a bit of everything. Angst lovers among you... enjoy... and the slightly more delicate ones out there might want to get a cushion ready to hide behind ;)

**LotRseer3350:** _Everybody_ loves plot twists! Muahahaha! 

**Sethoz: **You should see my keyboard! Poor thing is in pain, keeps begging me to let it be! And it's all your fault :P Hehehehe.

**Capt. Cow: **Tragic isn't it? Bad, Mina, bad! *pokes Mina with a stick, and then runs away*

**Graymoon74: **That must have been the first time in ages that you haven't yelled at me. Yay, but aw, need your jabbing!

*           *           *

            _His eyes looked across to his companion, and saw the other man's cocky smile. His tousled dark brown hair was everywhere, all over his brow and in his dark mischievous eyes. "What are you so happy about?"_

_            Huckleberry Finn chuckled lightly, and shrugged his lean shoulders, pistols held in his hands skilfully as he spun them using the trigger guards whilst they waited in the rain. "I'm happy for the both of us, Sawyer... someone's gotta be optimistic around here."_

_            "Huck... we're soaked... it's stormy and cold; why are you grinning?"_

_            "Am I not allowed to be happy now?" Huck challenged, slotting his pistols into his holsters at his sides, and leaning casually on the building facing his friend. Tom looked down at him, a good few inches taller, and sighed._

_            "You never were one for gloom," Tom noted, patting Huck on the shoulder. "I don't think he's gonna show."_

_            "Sure he is," Huck replied, still with the smile. It amazed Tom that the grin could remain when the circumstances were so heavy. They had been tailing this guy for days, and only now had they been given the go-ahead to 'take him out'. "Actually..." He pointed through the rain, looking out from underneath the peak of his wide cap. "I think that's him... you see?"_

_            Tom squinted through the sheets of rain, and nodded slowly. "That's him all right. Come on, let's go." Tom started across the street at a brisk walk, his clothes dripping, Huckleberry right behind him with an annoying spring in his step as always. _

_            "Dammit, Sawyer, try smiling for once when you're on a case," Huck sighed, "frowning wasn't in the job description, you know. Everything's fine."_

_            They followed the man into a building, and drew their guns. "Trust me, Tom... when have we ever failed before? You and me... we've never been foiled yet."_

_            Tom saw the light in Huck's eyes, and nodded. The two stepped into the large entrance hall, and froze immediately. _

_            They had been expected._

*           *           *

            The American screamed abruptly, and then went limp against his restraints, his knees losing their stability all of a sudden, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Gregory took a step back, and glanced to Amelia.

            "He is ready once again, dear Amelia."

            "I have warned you about your pet names, Gregory," the woman replied haughtily, and strode up to Sawyer, "and I was not teasing. If you persist, I will be forced to hand you over to my daughter."

            Gregory seemed to consider this for a moment, before backing down. Almost reluctantly, he sank away into the shadows before leaving the room altogether, and Amelia could faintly sense the thrill he had gained from seeing the American Agent's latest memories. 

            _"Look at me... raise your head and look me in the eyes, boy."_

            She felt the same resistance as before, but it was lessened now, part of his will broken and torn away, useless. 

            His head rose from its resting place, and their eyes met. The link strengthened at once, and Sawyer seemed to flinch, visibly weakened by his ordeal. 

            _"Do not fight me... it is futile. I will succeed, and you know that. Let me in..."_

_            "No... I won't let you hurt her."_

_            "She hurt _me_... now stop fighting, and submit."_

A solid glare. _"I won't."_

            She knew she was fighting his subconscious, and its unwillingness to be submerged again after last time, but she would not lose. She was too used to succeeding now to not have her way, despite how childish that was. _"Stop fighting, or I will _make _you stop, boy."_

_            "Do what you like... I **won't** let you hurt Mina."_

Amelia's hand shot out and slapped him across the face. In the blink of an eye, she had his jaw in her grip again, and she clasped it so tightly she almost broke the skin with her fingernails. "Hurt her? You think I want to _hurt_ the beast?" She laughed, a hollow, dead sound, abrupt and chilling. "I want to _destroy_ her, Sawyer... I want her broken, submissive, begging for her pathetic life on my knees before I make it end!"

            Sawyer closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

            _"You cannot resist me forever! You know I will win, and I will have my revenge sooner or later, whether you like it or not. There is no way for you to stop me... you are not strong enough by far. You are a simple, weak, useless human made for one purpose, and that is for me to use you as a puppet to do my bidding. Do you understand?"_

She shook his head as she emphasised her psychic words, his hair falling all in his face and around his brow, limp and damp with perspiration. He gasped lightly, and growled, "No... she's changed... she's not like that anymore."

            "Liar!" she screamed in his face, and he flinched at her tone. Still she did not release her grip, and pushed her mind into his again, prying her way in as if scrabbling for purchase on a slippery rock face. _"You will watch her suffering, and I will know peace at last for seeing her in pain after what she did to my family. She deserves nothing more than the slaughter she forced upon my loved ones! What gives you the right to judge me, to think other than what I have told you? How dare you? You cannot know the pain I have been through!"_

*           *           *

            Tom, determined and suddenly filled with more energy than he thought he possessed, threw his head backwards, twisting it out of her grip, and kicked out at her with his still-booted feet, throwing her back and to the ground. She landed with a shriek not unbecoming an enraged animal, but before she could stand up again, Tom yelled at her, "You're wrong! You don't know anything about me... though you do know my name... my association with Mina and the _League_. You talk about rights and vengeance... how can you try and justify yourself to me? You're no better than the Mina Harker who killed your family!"

            It was not the right thing to say, he knew, though the events of the next few moments continued to puzzle him for days afterwards. The speed with which it all happened astounded and frightened him.

            The thick metal door slammed open on its hinges with such force that Tom started violently, green eyes meeting the icy gaze of Elizabeth Kendrick, the hatred and fire in them unnerving, sending an inescapable chill down his spine.

            Something shot across the room at him with such speed that he would have missed it had he blinked during its journey... and then the only thing he knew was pain. He gave a long agonised shout, and then fell very quiet.

            He didn't have to look to his right shoulder to see the thin stiletto blade protruding from it, fresh blood seeping out of the wound around the shining weapon. He gasped for breath, and winced, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache. Tom groaned loudly, and gave another gasp.

            Amelia Kendrick was off the floor now, standing beside her daughter with slight triumph lighting her lined features. She paced up before him like a victorious predator before its fallen prey, and sneered. "You think you are so noble... you cannot see past your own naïve perceptions of friendship and the world you live in. How small... how pathetic..." she laughed, "... how _American_."

            She tore the blade out of his shoulder, letting the blood flow freely. Tom gave an abrupt, but loud cry, and then went very quiet again. All energy had seeped out of him, as he hung limply and helplessly from his chains again, surely a pathetic sight to look upon.

            _"Now,"_ the disturbingly calm voice in his mind began anew, _"look at me..."_

*           *           *

Elizabeth's mind raced with the thrill of harming a man again, and her heart pounded in her chest madly, threatening to break out of its confines and leave her body entirely. She looked momentarily to her mother, and then left the room, the sight of the American suffering almost too tempting to resist.

            She walked down the corridor, the sounds of her mother's voice travelling along with her for a time as she forced her consciousness into that of the captive, and Elizabeth's thoughts wandered. 

            The first thing she thought of was her father. He had been an abusive terrible man, and she had taken only joy in knowing she had killed him in that terrified moment when her abilities had shown themselves full force, abruptly and destructively.

            She remembered the shaking and smashing of objects all around her as her father had approached, a drunken mad glint in his eye, and a grin on his face. She had known his intentions, and could no longer stand his treatment of her. 

            Everything around her had hovered as she sat in her bed -a place where she never felt safe after years of being in the same house as that _thing_- shortly before they had all shot off towards her father, many of them impaling him and driving him to the ground in pain. After seeing what she had done, though quite shocked, Elizabeth had used all of her mental strength to make her own wardrobe collapse on the man, subsequently crushing his head, and freeing her and her mother from his abuse forever.

            But those years with a drunken horror of a man for a father had scarred Elizabeth; though she herself did not know the difference it would have made to have a normal loving husband be with her mother. She no doubt would have been a sweet, kind lady, not a tortured, battered soul who loved to wreak havoc and pain upon the other sex. 

            Sighing lightly to herself, she entered her room, and closed the door. Elizabeth moved over to the window, grimy though it was, and stared out of it into the early morning light that was just breaking over the horizon.

*           *           *

            Rodney Skinner had never quite understood why it was that he loved to explore so much. Perhaps it was because of his confinement when he had been just a boy, the way his father had treated him... perhaps not. Maybe it was just an instinctual curiousity he had never quite managed to suppress. All he knew was, the morning air of New York felt somehow refreshing as he strolled inconspicuously along the streets, something in the American atmosphere lightening his mood.

            He hummed lightly to himself as he went, glancing up at a clock to see that it was almost eight o'clock. He would have to be getting back for breakfast soon, but oh how happy he would be this morning after this escape from the Nautilus, no matter how brief.

            Dodging his way through the crowd, Skinner grinned at their lack of awareness, though no one saw the expression. He had neglected to dress or paint himself before leaving what he had come to call home lately, and so now was quite invisible to the naked eye. 

            As he walked, a sudden spring in his step, he caught someone moving through the crowds on the opposite side of the street, and he made his way over to them carefully, so as not to bump anyone and frighten them. 

            Skinner gave the familiar figure a light nudge in the side, and he was amused and shocked when they started visibly. He touched a hand to their arm, and pulled them aside discreetly, trying to make it look as though the person was walking quite of their own accord.

            "Easy, Sawyer, a bit jumpy this mornin', eh?"

            Sawyer looked to the rough area where Skinner's face would have been, and said, "What are you doing out here? You startled me."

            "I noticed!" Skinner furrowed his brow, another useless but instinctual expression. "I could ask you the same thing."

            Sawyer revealed an object from the inside of his coat, and showed it to Skinner. "I needed to get this... didn't feel right without it." He smiled.

            Skinner nodded at once at the sight of the Winchester rifle and chuckled. "Heh, of course. I should've known." Giving his friend a pat on the back, he said, "Well, come on then, or Nemo and the others will start without us."


	8. The Art of Discretion

**A/N: **Well, glad to see you're still enjoying it. The reviews are still coming in, but that's not the point, is it? *clears throat* It's getting the story told, right? It's hard to believe myself! Anyway... that waffle out of the way, thanks so much _for_ reviews, please don't stop just because I said _that_! Heehee. Okay, I'm a muppet... a big one :D On with the story...  
**Sethoz: **True, true... save for Aunt Polly and a couple of others, Huck was all poor Tom had *sniff* *remembers M died horribly, and is satisfied*

**Beck2:** Yep... LXG _is_ loads of fun, isn't it? Glad you're enjoying my work. Let me know if you want an update notice or not. Hope to see more of you in the future and _welcome!_

* * *

            It turned out that Tom Sawyer had not been very hungry at all... in that he ate nothing, simply sat at the table in observation of the others. His eyes kept floating to Mina, and Henry found this quite odd. Yes, they all had their silly infatuations with the woman -with the exception of Captain Nemo of course-, but Henry had never seen the American stare so outright. Whenever the woman looked at him, he simply smiled. Edward stirred inside of his mind, not a pleasant sensation.

            _"Why do you stare, Henry? Isn't that... rude? It's not as though you've never been caught staring at the vampire before."_ Edward chuckled, a dry mocking sound that made Henry grip his cup a little too tight. His knuckles whitened, and he quickly set the cup down, hearing it clink on its saucer. He cleared his throat, and smiled at Mina, who glanced to him curiously.

            Since he was sitting in a room occupied by the rest of the _League_, Henry immediately decided that verbal retaliation was not the right way to go about this. At least not here. He just sat in silence, and let Edward chatter away.

            _"That's right, Henry. Just listen. Oh how I love it when you cannot fight back... not that it is ever worth it."_

            Henry sighed deeply, and rubbed his left temple discreetly, trying not to draw attention to himself. He glanced to Sawyer at his side, noting the rigid way in which he sat there, not saying a word, barely even blinking. Was something the matter with him? Was he ill?

            Shaking his head, he tried to ignore Edward as he persisted, _"There is something disturbing about the American... I can smell it on the brat."_

            Henry gave up on trying to eat or drink anything else. That comment from his alter ego almost made his choke on a slice of toast. He managed to hide this behind his napkin however, and tilted his head and waited... Edward would clarify. He always did.

            Edward chuckled heartily. _"Can you not see it? The betrayal in his face. Voice our concerns, Henry. Do not trust him..."_

            "Just shut up!"

            Henry didn't realise what he had done until everyone looked at him, and Skinner's cutlery clattered to his plate noisily in the otherwise silent room. Nemo blinked. Mina raised a feminine eyebrow, and shared a confused expression with Sawyer.

            "Oh my," Henry mumbled, "I am sorry... Edward, he..." He indicated his skull as if that would explain everything. But still, they stared. "I apologise. I did not mean to... excuse me, I am not well." He nodded curtly to them, placed his napkin on his plate of unfinished food, and exited the room without another word. The others of the _League_ watched him leave with bemused expressions on their faces, looking to one another for answers that did not come.

            Henry headed straight back to his room, leaving the lights off so that he could sit in silence, comforted by the fact that without illumination, the reflection of Edward Hyde would not persist in the claim that Tom Sawyer was not trustworthy. Henry couldn't believe that... he wouldn't.

            But then again...

* * *

            Amelia Kendrick had learned long ago sometime during her fourty-odd years in existence, that concentration and determination were both key factors in the success of her 'art'. Her talents required both, to extreme levels, but Amelia had mastered the technique of being aware of her own actions and those of her victim simultaneously. It was difficult, but an advantage she was willing to suffer a few headaches for.

            Seeing through the eyes of Agent Sawyer, Amelia discreetly glared at the vampire as she ate delicately, the breakfast far from satisfying to the woman. Amelia made no attempt to nourish the body of the American... it bothered her little if he hungered or suffered from thirst, as long as he was strong enough to host her consciousness, that was all that mattered.

            _"So, Tom, gonna tell us about your friends then? When are you planning on seeing them again?"_

            Amelia turned Sawyer's head slightly to the left to take in the form -or rather, lack thereof- of Skinner, the invisible man. He was looking at Sawyer through pince-nez sunglasses, and cocking his head to one side.

            _"This evening. I'll be heading out about eight o'clock, if that's okay with everyone,"_ she said through his mouth, her own lips never moving. She projected it clearly in her mind, linked with Sawyer's and the words came out of his body, in his own voice. They were none the wiser to the deception. She was, however, a little concerned about the doctor, Jekyll... he had seemed agitated, and Amelia had noticed his watching Sawyer. She had even -only ever so slightly- sensed his worry. If the man continued to be a nuisance, Amelia would be forced to take drastic action... she didn't want that... it would risk her exposure.

            _"Sounds nice,"_ Skinner had replied without her realising, and she noticed she must have left the body of Sawyer almost completely still for a while, as both Harker and the invisible man were staring, perplexed.

            _"Sorry,"_ she apologised through Sawyer, _"I'm a little tired. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go lie down."_ Amelia made him stand, noticing she had a small amount of difficulty in doing so.

            She could feel Sawyer's mind fighting hers, scrabbling for purchase, trying to rise to the surface. She used her spare focus to force him back down, and nodded the head of the man to the others, leaving shortly thereafter.

            Amelia got Sawyer's body all the way back to his room, and used his hands to turn the key in the lock afterwards. She tossed the key aside after that, and braced herself. The pain in her skull was swelling.

            Sawyer was fighting with all he had.

* * *

            The feeling of being submerged under water was lessening, and he struggled vehemently to make his way to the surface of his own being, forcing his mind further upwards until he felt a great weight lifted partially from inside of him.

            He gasped, realising that the sound emerged from him audibly, and then he almost collapsed to the floor in shock. His breathing quickened drastically, quick panting gasps as he fought for air, stunned that he had succeeded in breaking free, if only for a moment.

            He had to grab the nearest object to keep himself upright, and that object happened to be a small table. His fingers closed about its rounded edges, knuckles white with the tension, and he somehow miraculously managed to keep on his feet.

            The pain slammed into him full force then, wracking his body. The abuse he had so far undergone took its toll, and he wobbled dangerously, even as he let go of the table. He stumbled back into the wall, knocking over a lamp on the way. The cuts, bruises and mental agony all attacked him at once, and he almost failed to keep breathing. His eyes were wide with the blow he had sustained, and he gave a shallow cry of distress, hoping someone might hear him.

            As he slumped back against the wall, he realised he didn't have long to enjoy his freedom... not that the word 'enjoyment' accurately described what he was going through. He could already feel her coming back.

            "No," he growled, and tried to rise, his shoulders aching from when they had had him restrained in that awkward position for hours on end. It was a marvel his wrists were not bruised. He almost wished they had been... the _League_ would have seen them. He favoured his left arm suddenly as he tore open the wound from the knife that Elizabeth had stabbed him with, and that drew another shout out of him, strangled and full of his suffering. Tears stung in his eyes, and he clamped them shut, gritting his teeth, breathing unevenly all the while.

            God, it hurt so much.

            "Leave me alone," he managed weakly, looking for something, anything that could help him. His elbow brushed against his side, and he froze. His guns... why hadn't he realised before?

            Tom had two options... one was suicide, shooting himself to escape the torture again and save Mina from the mad woman that was Amelia Kendrick... this wasn't too favourable, despite the 'nobility' of its intentions. The second was the choice he opted for. Using his left hand, suddenly extremely thankful for being ambidextrous, Tom withdrew the pistol.

            _"Put the gun down!"_ a voice said sternly in his head, and he felt his fingers weaken in their grip.

            "Dammit, no," he growled, and forced them to tighten, his index finger slipping through the trigger guard and finding its rightful place.

            _"Drop the weapon... it will do you no good, unless you intend to turn it on yourself, which I will not allow, and you know this. It is useless, Agent Sawyer."_

            With his last ounce of strength, he aimed blindly and squeezed the trigger, hearing the explosion of the gunshot and the subsequent shattering of an object, shortly before everything went frighteningly dark and numb once again.


	9. Losing Control

**A/N: **Well, Chapter 8 misbehaved, huh? Took ages to actually appear as readable! Grrr... ah well. At least you all got to read it anyway. That's the main thing. It's starting to climax now. I can see the continuation from here quite clearly now. It's all coming together. Should be about five more parts, maybe a couple more. Shouldn't be any more than that. Of course, the length of the chapters is still undetermined. Thanks! This one is quite short, but I had such a positive response overnight, I thought I would put this up as a kind of reward. You've all really encouraged me to continue! Thanks again!

**Panzergal: **Welcome back! Haven't seen you in a while. :) 

**Silent Bob 546: **Why thank ya', Bob. Sorry... couldn't resist. Yep, usually Sawyer focused, hehe. Can't help it. Irresistible that guy... I think this is mostly what Sethoz and me have in common ;)

**Sethoz: ***chokes* Gah! Stop that! Remember, if you strangle me, you won't get any more...

**MJ: **Yay! Welcome back, MJ! Missed you! :D Anyhow, thanks _so_ much for the praise. You flatter me... and trust me, with me, that goes a **_long_** way :)

**Graymoon74: **Aww, thanks! *sniff* That means a lot! :D What would I do without you guys, huh? I'd go nuts and sit in a hole, that's what. To tell you the truth, your favourite bit (Tom at the table with Amelia pulling the strings) was a worrisome bit for me. Wasn't sure that would work... you have consoled me. 

**Beck2: **A Nemo fan? Cool... don't get many of those sadly. I'm not one myself... difficult to write for the man actually... *mumble mumble*

**Felicia: **Thank you, and welcome :) Here's some Jekyll for you :D

* * *

            Stopping as soon as he heard the sound, Henry's head turned almost completely independent of his body, and he raised an eyebrow in consideration of what such a disturbance could mean.

            _"You see what I mean, Henry? You naïve fool... the brat has gone and killed someone."_

            "Shut _up_, Edward!" Henry hissed, turning sharply on his heel and heading to the origin of the racket. Gunfire could only come from one person on this submarine. Agent Sawyer was the only one in possession of firearms. No one else trusted them or was trained enough in their usage to carry them, other than Nemo and his men under dire circumstances.

            And so Henry jogged to Sawyer's cabin, where he heard a slight noise from inside. He knocked on the door three times swiftly in succession and waited with bated breath. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet as he stood there, on edge now because of the disturbance. Could something have happened?

            That was when Sawyer opened the door, running his fingers through his hair to enable himself to see. He looked to Henry with curious and puzzled green eyes, and waited. When Henry didn't say anything, the young man asked, "Something wrong, Doctor?"

            "I heard a noise... a gunshot. Is everything all right?" Henry could see a six-shooter lying on the floor in the background of Sawyer's cabin, and the young man followed his gaze. He laughed, and the two glanced to the shattered lamp on the other side of the room, its remains scattered in all directions from the blast.

            "Oh," Sawyer began, smiling disarmingly in an all-American fashion, "no need to worry, Doctor. I just startled myself, that's all. Thought I saw something... I'm fine. Thank you, though, for your concern." He moved to close the door.

            Henry actually reached forward and placed his hand on the door to stop it from shutting in his face, and he added, "Are you sure? Nothing's wrong? Nothing at all?"

            Something in Sawyer's eyes startled Henry, and he removed his hand from the door at once, as if it had been struck away. He swallowed and smiled. After a moment, Sawyer returned the gesture. "Look, everything is fine. Thank you for checking on me though."

            Henry halted again when something in Sawyer's youthful features contradicted his claim. He looked pained all of a sudden, and Sawyer closed his eyes, rubbing them with a hand.

            "Something _is_ wrong," Henry noted, and immediately felt his medical instincts kicking in full force, altering his composure and mood drastically. The weak, feeble and shy Jekyll sank to the pit of his being, and the doctor in him rose defiantly.

            "No, no," Sawyer protested, but there was less conviction in his words now. 

            Henry moved a step closer. "Agent Sawyer, you look unwell. Something is wrong, and unless you let me in to determine the cause, I will have to call on Nemo to break the door down, do you understand?"

* * *

            Gregory stared, breathing steady, but his innards swelling with concern. Amelia's face contorted, and she clamped her eyes shut, forehead creasing in deep concentration. She looked pained suddenly, as though something was ailing her internally.

            "You are losing him," Gregory said loudly, firmly. He stared at her with dark eyes, and awaited her argument... he knew it was coming; it always did when he 'doubted' her abilities, which Gregory knew would be a mistake in reality. The woman was powerful... _very_ powerful. 

            "I am not. I am in perfect control."

            "You are lying, I can see it in your face," Gregory countered sternly, stepping forward and noticing there was an edge to his voice now, one that he took little shame in. "You are in pain... he is stronger than we thought. Bring him back."

            "I will not," Amelia growled. "Be quiet!"

            "Look at yourself, Amelia, you are tired. You cannot _hope_ to keep the boy under your control in this condition. If you do not bring him back now, we will _lose_ him!"

            "I will not lose him, Gregory! I _know_ what I am doing, and you are not helping," Amelia's own tone was dangerous and challenging. Though her eyes were closed to maximise her level of concentration on her subject, she intimidated Gregory.

            The man would never admit it though, not even to himself. He was too proud, too determined to appear infallible. "Amelia, _listen_ to me, for the love of God... he is too strong for you. Bring him back, and we will have to double our efforts to break him. We underestimated his will. Amelia..." Gregory paused, confident that she was listening by the way her head tilted slightly to one side to listen, "if you lose him now, on the Nautilus, we will have no hope of fulfilling your mission."

            _Her mission... that's right, it **is** her mission. Why do I care? Why do I persist? _Gregory smiled inwardly. _Because I am entertained... that is why._

            "Amelia," he began in conclusion, and finished firmly by saying slowly, "Bring. Him. Back."

            Though Amelia remained silent, the way her face softened gave Gregory the feeling that he had just won the argument. Triumphant, he settled back into nonchalance, and waited.

* * *

            Henry was halfway in the door, when Sawyer actually gave him a gentle shove. Henry was startled, and eyed the American cautiously. Something was different about him... Edward was right... _Edward_ was right!

            _"I am overjoyed to see you admit it,"_ Edward voiced sarcastically in his mind, but he ignored the brute.

            "I-" Sawyer mumbled and shook his head, taking a deep breath. He snatched his coat off the rack to his left, and donned it. "I have to go, Doctor. I'm sorry. Apologise to the others for me."

            "But-"

            "I'll be back as soon as I can," Sawyer added on his way down the corridor. Henry watched him go, and jogged after him when a moment had passed. Perhaps the young man would divulge further if he were pursued to the hatch.

            "Agent Sawyer!" Henry called, trailing behind him, noticing the American's unusually long strides. Henry had trouble keeping up, and grumbled to himself that he needed to exercise more. Shame on him for not doing so anyway in his profession.

            "Agent Sawyer, where are you going?"

            "To see a friend."

            They were at the hatch in no time, and Henry stopped and watched, dismayed, as Sawyer strode away into the crowds of New York. The people were in their own little worlds, ignorant even to the submarine that sat revealed in the dock. Henry resisted the urge to call after his friend, and only then noticed what was very wrong.

            Sawyer had left with only one gun on his person... that had _never_ happened before.

* * *


	10. Dare To Move

**A/N: _HAPPY NEW YEAR!_ **Thanks so much for all the reviews :D Mean a lot as always. As an extra note, with much help from **Sethoz**, my basis' for Amelia and Gregory are now uploaded on my site under Fanfiction & OCs. All of the characters from this fics are now uploaded with biographies and pictures. Here's a cliffy to start off the new year with ;)

**Graymoon74: **Ask yourself, would _you_ trust Tom with that behaviour? Hehe. P.s. About the chapter 'already signed' thing, just close the window, and click submit again ;) Never fails for me.

**Sethoz: **Bwahaha! Patience is a virtue ;) :P

**Angharad: **He has an adorable vulnerability to him, doesn't he?

**Silent Bob 546: **And this would be a bad thing _whyyyyy? _Sawyer monitor? **_Yes please!!!!_**

**drowchild: **Jekyll is a good guy deep down. Needing to watch his back? Hmm... think you might be right there. I think 'Poor Sawyer' doesn't begin to cover it. *hands you some cookies and some frozen hotdogs for your campfire*

**MJ: **It was either Jekyll or Skinner, and for some reason, Jekyll appealed :S

* * *

            Mina uttered a small yelp when Jekyll burst into her room with such urgency that she thought something was on fire. She gripped her test tube tightly after almost dropping it, and her hand shook with the shock of it all. She muttered a curse, and whirled to the doctor, eyes fiery and angry, face drawn into a grimace.

            "Jekyll!" she chided, "Whatever are you doing?"

            The man panted and gasped like a fish out of water, and finally managed to ramble, "Sawyer... gone, left to see his friends. He's not himself. Edward seems to think he will betray us, but I noticed he left without his second pistol _and_ rifle."

            Mina stared, disbelieving, and finally managed, "Doctor, are you quite all right?"

            Jekyll muttered under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up in random directions. He actually looked quite comic, although Mina was certain that had not been his intention. "Something is wrong with Agent Sawyer."

            "Where did he go? Did he say where exactly?"

            "No he didn't..."

            Mina furrowed her brow. "And what is it Hyde suspects?"

            "That Sawyer will betray us," Jekyll repeated, waiting eagerly for her reaction, which seemed to disappoint. The way his face fell when she replied was most confusing.

            "Well... surely the... Hyde can't expect us to believe Agent Sawyer means anything other than to confuse and cause mischief as always, Doctor Jekyll." Mina smiled to reassure him, and he stood staring at her with a puzzled expression. 

            "But, Mrs. Harker-"

            "Look..." she smiled again, setting down the test tube. "I'll admit Tom's behaviour did confuse me for a while. He had a different scent to him, and it concerned me."

            Jekyll waited for her continuation.

            "But then I realised it was perfume from a woman, and my senses were just... off," Mina added, "I really don't think we have anything to worry about."

            Jekyll stood, disarmed now and looking very vulnerable and misunderstood. Mina almost felt sorry for the poor man. But he was always rushing to conclusions, it seemed, being the pessimist. That was not what she needed right now. She was depressed enough as it was, and didn't need him casting an unnecessary shadow over everything. True, he was a sweet, considerate man, but he did sometimes irritate. 

            "Now, Doctor, your concerns are noted," Mina said, realising how official she sounded, and reminded herself to tone it down, "but I really must persist with this experiment before I leave the chemicals too long. They only have a limited shelf life." She nodded to him, and turned back to her desk.

            Her senses informed her Jekyll had paced away. She could tell by the way his scent grew faint, and her heightened hearing picked up his distant footsteps as he withdrew. 

            As she fully comprehended what she had said, she started to feel pangs of guilt as to her treatment of the man. Perhaps she had been a little hasty to brush him off so quickly... but then again, perhaps not.

            Who knew? Not Mina.

* * *

            _God dammit, stop walking! Just, stop your feet; you know you can do this! They're your stupid feet, **stop them!**_

            The feeling of submergence, or rather being stuck somewhere in between the pit of his being and the surface, was torturous, perhaps even worse than being all the way down in the darkness. Amelia was struggling, he knew, and he _had_ to fight her with every ounce of his being he had left.

            There was nothing more terrifying to him right now than pondering on the fact that if he didn't fight, he might be lost forever, a mere shell of the Tom Sawyer the _League_ knew.

            He still felt her trying to push him down, but her efforts were weaker now... something suggested a great pain in her that he could not understand. Was this hurting her? If so, then he had to try harder.

            Tom wanted them to suffer for what they had done to him... the pain, the torture, the use of awful memories, and the torment. Not to mention their plot to destroy someone he looked on as a dear friend, and perhaps more. He didn't know what it was, and this was _not_ the time to dwell on that.

            _I just need to hold on a little longer. Just a little longer..._

* * *

            Amelia's eyes snapped open with such ferocity and abruptness that Gregory took a step back, even as the woman's head turned to him, and she panted, "It is done." That was when Elizabeth entered the room, and moved directly to her mother, whispering quiet things in her ear as if in reassurance and comfort. Amelia nodded, but Gregory was bored by such compassion, and left, determination on his face.

            He moved with unbelievable speed to the foyer, where he knew the American would be waiting. Gregory half expected the boy to be unconscious when he got there, but when he arrived in the entrance to the building, he looked around in stunned yet stoic confusion.

            Where the hell was he?

* * *

            Tom felt Amelia slip out of his mind entirely, and immediately -as before- gasped and almost collapsed with the waves of intense, merciless pain that attacked him and gnawed at every fibre of his being. His shoulder burned from the stab wound, and he gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out. He had to act quickly if he had any hope at all of trying to stop their plans from coming to a culmination.

            Tears stinging in his eyes from the agony, Tom scanned the area quickly, when he heard hurried footsteps approaching.

            _Gregory..._

            His first instinct was to stand and fight, but without the element of surprise, he wouldn't stand a chance. Gregory was strong, and brutal. Tom was wounded and unprepared for such a struggle. 

            He did still have one pistol though...

* * *

            Gregory looked this way and that, dark eyes scanning every inch in his line of sight, and growled under his breath angrily. He was in the main body of the foyer now, down the stairs in the entrance hall where the American _should_ have been. He couldn't have gone far. Had Amelia let him go too early? Had he escaped?

            No, it was impossible. He was wounded... he wouldn't possibly be able to move fast enough.

            Of course, this thought was pushed completely out of Gregory's barbaric mind when something unexpectedly slammed into the base of his skull, driving his forward and down simultaneously.

* * *

            Tom acted quickly. When he saw the man in plain view, and thought the time right, he pounced, his own stealth and agility surprising even him. In his state, it was a miracle he could move two feet, let alone physically launch himself from his shadowed hiding place under the staircase, pistol at the ready.

            He slammed the butt of the gun into the base of Gregory's skull, and he watched the man pitch forward.

            Tom shoved aside the triumph as he realised Gregory was still very much conscious, when the man held out both hands to stop him from falling flat on his face on the floor. With an audible growl of rage, he whirled on Tom; dark eyes alight with his fury at the situation.

            Gregory pounced on him, and drove him back, even as he aimed. He was rammed back into the wall behind him with such force that he gave a shout and loosened his grip on the pistol, not having had time to fire. He did not drop it though... instead, Gregory tore it from his grasp, took a step back, and kicked out the back of his knee. Tom fell halfway to the floor, and then used every ounce of strength he had left to plough his way forward, tearing Gregory's feet from the floor he had purchase on.

            The two men went down in a tangled confusion on the floor, and started trying to physically tear at each other. The malice in the fitter man's eyes was terrifying, even as he -in quite a juvenile, cruel way- took a wrenching tight-fingered grip in Tom's hair, yanking his head sideways, and then rammed his fist into his face. Tom flew off to the side, landing roughly on the floor, colours swimming behind his eyelids.

            Tom became aware of his surroundings just in time to avoid the stiletto that soared towards him. It hadn't occurred to him that Gregory was trained in projectile weaponry, but he had been naïve to think otherwise. He scrambled madly to one side, hearing the blade skitter and scrape along the area where his head _had_ been only seconds before.

            Though Tom ached madly and perspired wildly with the exertion of keeping himself conscious and upright now, he stood, ducking a fist from Gregory, punching the man in the stomach on his way down, driving him back and away, just long enough for Tom to kick out at him as an extra effort.

             His booted foot landed in almost exactly the same spot he had punched, and Gregory doubled over, dropping Tom's gun. 

            Tom lunged, fingers of his left hand closing around the barrel as he rolled, cursing himself for doing so. His shoulder burned something fierce, and he almost blacked out as he came back to his feet, feeling oddly unbalanced without the other Colt in his hand for symmetry. 

            He came up with the business end of the gun pointed directly at Gregory's forehead, and the man had a hand raised near Tom's arm. Both men stopped, regarding one another seriously. It was a tense moment; Tom panting wildly with exhaustion and pain, Gregory angry beyond comprehension at the sheer nerve the American had exhibited in attacking _him_.

            That moment seemed to drag on for an eternity.


	11. Pleasure And Pain

**A/N: **I am _SO_ sorry this was so long in coming. I went to my sister's up north spontaneously for New Year's, and didn't have time to update before I went. *gets down on knees and begs* _Please_ forgive me! I am so, so sorry! I'll never do it again, I promise. Now that the grovelling is over, I think it's time for some acknowledgements, my way of saying 'Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!';

**drowchild: **You're probably back now; on the day I update this. Sorry you didn't have anything to come back to. Hope that muse doesn't burn those hotdogs...

**LotRseer3350: **Climax? Oh yes... I have it in my sights now, though it may be a little longer than I promised a short while ago.

**Anacalagon: **Sorry I, um... killed you. *smiles at ghost* Hi there... welcome to the story. Cookie? *offers ghosts an apologetic cookie*

**Sethoz: **Stupid Mina indeed... tut tut tut... she will regret that later. Or will she? You'll have to wait and see ;)

**Beck2: ***rolls around laughing at your outburst* Fantastic that I can draw such powerful feeling from you... I think. Thank you, by the way, for your comment about Gregory. I'm always pleased when someone comments positively on one of my original characters, because, well... they're mine, you know? I'm proud of that. :)

**Angharad: **I swear... I'd almost think you were psychic. Have you been looking at my notes?

**American-Agent: **Aww, thanks so much! That means a lot, that one word... 'masterpiece', wow. And on your further comment, a little research goes a _long_ way. Helps me to get into the character's heads.

**Maygin: ***hands you award for longest review yet* Thanks _SO_ much. Your review couldn't have made me happier. I really don't deserve all this, yet it never fails to brighten my day, no matter how cruddy work was or whatever. Yours was one of the best reviews I ever got. 'Sawyer fan'? Try 'fanatic', my friend! I try to update every two days to keep people interested and happy. I've almost come to adore the character of Huckleberry... he seems so sweet and vulnerable in the books, being a sort of orphan and all. I just want to hug the little devil! I also took the liberty of adding you to the update list because you seem so admirably patient, and it's my lame form of reward.

**Capt. Cow: **Since you asked so nicely...

* * *

            It happened with such speed that Tom was certain it was impossible it should have transpired at all. Gregory's hand shot forward and grabbed Tom's wrist with such swiftness that Tom had no time to react, in that he failed to pull the trigger of his gun before Gregory swung him around to slam him into the wall. This succeeded in jarring Tom's shoulder enough to reopen the stab wound, but he denied Gregory the reward of crying out. He gritted his teeth, and pulled the trigger, knowing it was too late now. The shot ricocheted off the banister and was lost, before the man's scarred hand gripped him by the throat.

            He did not choke Tom, simply held him in a firm grip and forced him into a reverie that pained him and grieved him.

            All the people he had ever loved and lost coalesced into his mind, taking precedence over anything else that should have been there, pushing all coherent thought down and away as faces swirled in his vision behind closed eyes.

            Allen Quatermain and Huckleberry Finn stood together, both staring at a projected figure of Tom Sawyer as if in accusation. Their eyes said it all... _'You killed us'_. Tom struggled futilely to free his mind, even as the form of his late Aunt Polly forced its way into startling clarity. The pain in her eyes was heart breaking, and he felt his will weakening and his throat constrict with sadness. He had not been with her in her last days, and had received word of her passing from his cousins Sid and Mary, who had both been less than grateful for his absence. 

            Tom tried to break free, his emotions swelling and trying to break their way through his defences, and almost succeeding. Gregory's hand tightened in its vice grip, and he was pushed down again. 

_            Partnered with Huck Finn and running, almost a mirror of when they had been children, except this time with fully loaded guns in their grasp, the innocence and childhood happiness gone, replaced with urgency and determination._

_            Flash!_

_            "Dammit, Sawyer, try smiling for once when you're on a case," Huck sighed, "frowning wasn't in the job description, you know. Everything's fine."_

_            They followed the man into a building, and drew their guns. "Trust me, Tom... when have we ever failed before? You and me... we've never been foiled yet."_

_            Tom saw the light in Huck's eyes, and nodded. The two stepped into the large entrance hall, and froze immediately. _

_            They had been expected._

            _Flash!_

_            The Phantom... cackling maniacally, seeing the two Agents somewhat at his mercy. A gunshot._

_            Flash!_

_            Huck lay dying on the floor, bleeding from a fatal wound to his chest, gasping for breath, trying desperately to stay alive. Tom was by his side, trying not to show his distress, having let the Phantom escape, too worried about his best friend and partner to move. _

_            Flash!_

_            Huck... dead, in his arms._

_            Flash!_

_            "I got him!" Tom said triumphantly, turning back and halting at once as he saw Allen struggling for breath, slumped on some old furniture. He was watching Tom, and he nodded. When he spoke, his voice was forced, very weak, as he said, "May this new century be yours, son... as the old one, was mine."_

_            Tom started forward as Allan slumped entirely, going very still. He stopped; realising there was nothing he could do. Allan Quatermain was dead..._

            Tom let out a long agonised scream, and Gregory let him drop to the floor, before throwing the gun, wrenched from the American's grip, across the room to the floor with a clatter. He followed through on his mental torture by slamming his boot into Tom's unprotected stomach, knocking the wind out of him entirely. Tom curled into a protective position and tried to get his breath back, failing, even as Gregory broke through the shield of his arms and kicked him again, and again. Tom's ribs burned, and he knew he was being punished... not only for his retaliation against Amelia's psychic hold, but for attacking the man in the first place.

            Though he could not look up at Gregory, he knew the man was grinning maniacally as he beat Tom, enjoying every second of it as much as he could. Tom did not even have enough breath in him to voice his pain as Gregory persisted in hitting him any way he could, and with enough force it seemed he could shatter bone.

            Tom almost regretted jumping Gregory... almost.

* * *

            Juliana stared into her full-length mirror, eyes unseeing but still watchful. Her intelligence was hidden there, lost in the woe and misery she had fallen victim to many years ago after seeing the slaughter of her family to unknown causes. She had been too young and innocent to perceive such madness, and therefore it had driven her mad and silently insane. Instead of math and science, her mind now remained firmly fixed upon screams long lost to her ears, the sight of her three sisters and mother's bloodied corpses, the mangled remains of her father. She did not know why she had been spared, nor did she feel blessed.

            Juliana Shaw was the last of her family, all others lost to death many years ago. The cause of this would never be known by the young woman, but in all of her sorrow, she simply stared at her own reflection, her smooth, flawless skin and full lips, her once-bright eyes, the way her hair fell around her face in gorgeous silky tresses of auburn and red. Her elegant dress served very little purpose, other than to make her appealing to the eye... and it succeeded most effortlessly. Her lean frame supported the corset, petticoats and outer skirts with ease and she still managed -after all the pain she had suffered and force upon others- to look as stunning as ever.

            Only when she heard the sounds of suffering from someone downstairs did Juliana's eyes travel from the glass in the mirror, and she faltered in her rigid stance at the appeal of it. She could not resist its tempting lure, and soon she found her heeled shoes carrying her gracefully, as if she were floating, down the hallway to the top banister of the stairs. She stared down with vacant expression, overjoyed inside, and watched Gregory punch and kick with everything he had, taking in the submissive and broken form of Agent Sawyer below him.

            Juliana almost smiled.

            This simply was too much fun to miss out on.

* * *

            Gregory -still seething inside at the nerve of the American- only halted when Sawyer began to scream for another reason, his voice hoarse and weak from abuse. Gregory's fist hovered in midair over the body of Sawyer, and his head turned slowly to take in the beautiful form of Juliana Shaw, as she stood motionless at the top of the stairs staring down on the younger man.

            Gregory chuckled dryly, and removed a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his hands on it. He only regretted not being able to strike at the boy's face and hands, where it would affect him greatly. Amelia had made it clear that these were to be left untouched, lest the _League_ figure out what was going on. Gregory didn't doubt the behaviour of the American was already starting to cause suspicion and unrest amongst the others on the submarine at dock.

            He stood staring down hungrily at Sawyer as he clutched futilely at his head to try and stop the burning, stabbing pain that no doubt manifested itself mercilessly within. Gregory knew how Juliana attacked, though he had been lucky enough to escape it during his time in her company. He had not angered or irritated her enough to draw that kind of attention. 

            "Stop!" came a shout from Juliana's position above, and Gregory's dark menacing eyes rose to glace at Amelia, the form of her daughter half-concealed behind her.

            _When will she stop protecting the girl? She is old enough and perfectly capable of doing so herself. Foolish woman..._

            Gregory knew he needed to be careful of such thoughts around Amelia though; she was a powerful psychic, the most formidable of them all in her own ways. Of course, he would never publicly admit this, being weaker than a woman, but he was perfectly aware of it, and that was all he needed. 

            "Leave him, Juliana," Amelia warned coldly, and Sawyer stopped suffering at once... mostly. Gregory's abuse still burned within him he knew, and for that he was filled with pride and triumph, even a sense of mirth. "I need him alive, after all, if I am to have my prize by tonight."

            "Tonight?" came Gregory's cool question, and he narrowed his eyes, raising a brow slightly in inquiry. Had she moved her plans forward without informing him?

            "Yes," Amelia confirmed, moving down the stairs with Elizabeth in tow. It was only rarely that the latter would speak, but when she did, her words and tone carried the same icy formidable edge that made her mother so imposing. "I have to act quickly now... whether or not I wish to admit it, I am losing the boy. He is too strong-willed, despite our efforts to break him."

            Gregory withdrew his blade from its sheath in his belt, and growled, "Let me tend to that."

            "No," Amelia snapped, mere inches from him now. If she were to move forward any closer, she would have impaled herself on his stiletto. Whether or not he wished for this, he kept hidden from even himself. "Any more of our abuse and he will not be able to stand what I need from him."

            Gregory sighed heavily, and hid the blade away again, glancing only fleetingly to Elizabeth. Her hatred of men was not lost on him entirely, and he needed to have his wits about him when she was near. If she so wished, Gregory could, in moments, be impaled on his own weapon... he knew this, and kept it forever in his conscious mind.

            "Elizabeth," Amelia began, her tone softer now, more affectionate, "your assistance, please."

            Gregory rolled his eyes, and withdrew from the scene, though it did fascinate him to see Elizabeth Kendrick display her powers of telekinesis. He did not wish to linger in his defeat though... even if he _had_ been permitted _some_ freedom to do as he wished to Sawyer. Amelia had seen to it that he was to keep out of the way until that night. He supposed, after then, he could do _whatever_ he wished with the broken shell of the boy, and not have to worry about the consequences.

* * *

            Skinner was in the process of pouring himself the second scotch of the day when Jekyll burst into the room, looking quite angry actually... for Jekyll anyway. He had to grip the decanter with both invisible hands to stop from dropping it. To Skinner, the wasting of even a drop of alcohol, especially one so precious as scotch, was a crime far worse than anything conceivable to the sober mind of a sensible man... like a doctor for instance.

            "Jesus Christ!" Skinner exclaimed after a long moment, and turned to Jekyll, though to the other man it must have appeared as though the decanter had a life of its own... not to mention the ability to fly. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

            Jekyll looked in quite a state of disarray, and he strode fully into the room quite uninvited, and said, "We have a bit of a problem, and I need your help."

            _Did he say **my** help? Am I really that drunk already?_ Skinner glanced to the decanter a moment, and then set it down, suddenly not very thirsty. _Time to cut down I think. It's finally gone to my brain._

            "I beg your pardon?"

            Jekyll observed him very seriously with brown eyes for a moment, and then repeated, "I need your help, Skinner. Are you going to help me or not?"

            Skinner scooped up his measure of scotch, and sat on the arm of his chair, saying, "Well, Jekyll, that really does depend on the favour."

            Jekyll rolled his eyes as if to say 'I don't have time for this', and Skinner grinned outwardly, knowing the good doctor would not see it anyway. "Skinner, look-"

            "Okay, calm down," Skinner eased, holding up a hand, and then dropping it to his side once again as he realised its futility, "just... tell me what's the matter. Then I'll see what kind of problem we have ourselves here, and whether you truly do require my services."

            So Skinner sat, perched on the arm of that chair for near on ten minutes as he listened intently to Jekyll's colourful, somewhat stammered form of narrative as to the 'problem'. When the doctor was finished, he waited with breath held for the invisible man's reaction.

            "Well," Skinner breathed, not sure quite what he should say, if anything. He needed another drink, but couldn't move for pensive consideration of the doctor's tale. It was quite a pickle, he was sure of that... he didn't know what to do about it really. "I think you might need my services after all, mate. Sounds like old Sawyer has a thing or two up his sleeve that needs... investigating, and who better for the job than your friendly neighbourhood thief?"


	12. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**A/N: **Well, hopefully this chapter serves as a longer dose. It changes about a bit, here there and everywhere, but my aim is that I'll fulfil my pledge to bring you longer chapters... as I promised. Shout outs are as follows;

**drowchild: **Tense? Try... okay I can't think of a word worse than that. No worries about the food... can't have a loyal reviewer starving now, can I?

**Anacalagon: **Glad you liked that bit :D Got a little bit of bizarre inspiration from Cap'n Jack Sparrow believe it or not *stares blankly at revelation* Bet ya' didn't see _that_ one coming, did you? More Skinner... why of course!

**Silent Bob 546: **_I_ pity him, and I'm the one writing the stuff! :S

**Sethoz: **I'm going to take this as a good thing, that I can scare my readers so thoroughly with my own hidden sadism... okay... now I'm scaring _myself_. Congratulations on being the only one to truly recognise the Spiderman reference, as loose as it may have been. Hehehehe. 

**Lissa: **Ack, thanks muchly for the correction on Sid. *slaps head* Forgot about that *shamed* Bad, Clez, _bad_!

**Angharad:** Skinner and Jekyll as a team up was just too tempting...

**LotRseer3350: ***is listening to TTT music _right_ now as she writes this* Thanks for the kind words, and enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

            Elizabeth stood as still as she possibly could in front of the young man, who was not much older than herself it seemed, and regarded him curiously. She cocked her head, and noticed he flinched. Elizabeth smiled, overjoyed that he was frightened of her already. He had barely seen her talents or how cruel she could be... she wondered if her mother would allow her some time with him.

            Casting a glance to the door, Elizabeth moved around the chained captive, taking in his irregular breathing, his heavy perspiration, and the visible pain in his green eyes... eyes that were starting to lose their light. He hung rather limply now, one knee buckled, as though he were giving up. A shame...

            Elizabeth came back round to stand before the weakened American, and looked to the wound she had caused before. Cocking her head again, black tresses tumbling around her face, she touched the bandage her mother had applied. Her touch was not gentle, and Sawyer winced visibly, gasping slightly. Smiling, Elizabeth saw that the blood had soaked through, and then she tore the bandage off. She was disappointed when Sawyer refused to scream. He didn't even look at her.

            Raising an eyebrow, she took in the sight of the fresh bruising around his chest and stomach area. The way his breathing laboured, it wouldn't have surprised Elizabeth to learn of bruised -perhaps even cracked- ribs... maybe internal bleeding. Gregory had certainly let himself go. Elizabeth brushed aside a moment of admiration when she saw a brief image of her father and his cruelty in her mind. Her face fell back into shadowed anger, and she glared at the American. 

            Reaching out with her mind, the chains began to constrict and rise, pulling on the man's wounded shoulder. Now he screamed, and Elizabeth felt elated, smiling broadly at his open display of agony. She let him back down to the floor, and for a moment, both knees buckled, but then he seemed to remember his injury and one foot slammed back defiantly to the floor, his panting audible.

            His eyes met hers then, and for a moment, Elizabeth was almost certain she saw unshed tears in them.

            _How pathetic_, she thought without humour, and wondered what else she could do to enjoy her time in this room alone with the man. 

* * *

            _Tom looked around himself, brow furrowed. He looked through locks of blonde curly hair, and then realised his feet were bare, the cool of the ground beneath them making him look down at himself. _

_            He looked up, startled and afraid, eyes darting this way and that for some semblance of recognition as to his situation. What was going on? The last thing he remembered was Gregory approaching him... Gregory. _

_            Now, as he looked himself over one more time, he was a young boy. When he took in his surroundings, he realised he was in St. Petersburg, Missouri. _

_            "Oh my god..."_

_            "You watch your mouth, Thomas Sawyer."_

_            Tom whirled, heart leaping into his throat, and everything in him stopped when he saw the pair of figures standing before him near the riverbed. He started to shake, and he stared at them long and hard, his memory working double-time to make out their faces... faces he had almost forgotten._

_            Tears swam in his eyes as he mumbled, "Momma...?"_

_            The woman nodded, and held out her arms to him. Without thinking, he ran to her and threw himself into her warm embrace, sobbing against her skirts. He trembled with grief, but after a moment, his eyes rose to the second figure. He was a tall man, proud and strong, with dark hair and green eyes. His facial hair did nothing to hide his welcoming smile, and the suit he wore made Tom think back on Sundays in church._

_            "Papa?" He could barely remember his father... but the eyes... those were the eyes that always stared back at him in the mirror. The man tousled Tom's hair with a laugh and nodded. Tom was overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He still couldn't figure out what he was doing here... why his **parents** were here. They had died... hadn't they? That was what his memory told him._

_            When he spoke, his youthful southern drawl was back, his every word abbreviated or turned into an adolescent form of slang as he asked, "What're ya' doin' here?"_

_            His mother looked down on him with sky blue eyes, and smiled again. Her hair was blonde, falling down to her shoulders in curly locks that answered Tom's life-long question of just where his hair had taken its appearance. Who else but his mother? She wore a bright, floral dress of whites and pinks, long skirts touching her ankles. She was a lean woman, but far from short. _

_            "Why else would we be here, Tom?" his mother replied, looking to Tom's father. He really could not remember the slightest detail about his father._

_            "We're here when you need us most," his father said in clear tones that spoke of confidence and experience. Tom suddenly wished the man had been around in his youth, to guide him then._

_            "What's goin' on?" Tom asked next, stepping back slightly from the embrace of his mother. He was frightened again. His breathing quickened._

_            "Tom, now don't be frightened," his mother eased, and she crouched to be more at his level. She reached out gently, and her fingers caressed his cheek lovingly. Tom fought back the emotions again. He had truly loved his Aunt Polly... but she could never have been a mother to him. _

_            His father came down beside him, and looked him in the face. "We're only here to help."_

_            "But, what am I doin' here? The last thing I rememb-"_

_            His mother interrupted him softly, saying, "Don't worry about that, Tom. We need you to do something for us, okay? Can you do that, Tom?"_

_            Tom stammered for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes 'm."_

_            "Good boy, Tom," his mother said, and stroked his bangs out of his face. "Now listen carefully..."_

* * *

            Gregory drew back, noticing there was no resistance from the American now, and he smiled openly. He glanced to Amelia with a sly expression, and waved a hand.

            "All yours, my dear... I can assure you, your job will be _much_ easier now," Gregory said. The look on Amelia's face was enough to take away all the pain he still felt at the rear of his skull.

            _Well... touché, boy... you hurt me, and I went that one step further, and hurt you more than you will **ever **know._

            Gregory watched Amelia come up to face Sawyer, and she stood before him, silent for a moment, before turning her head back. "Gregory... what did you do? I have barely any resistance..."

            Deeply satisfied, Gregory started to wipe his hands on a handkerchief now, feigning boredom. "Well... trick of the trade, dear Amelia. Attack them where it _hurts_."

            Amelia regarded him curiously for a moment, and then decided she would rather not bother trying to decipher the man's riddles, and so turned her attention back on her vessel. 

            Gregory watched as Amelia released the boy from the shackles. She seemed to have such immense control over his body now that he stood quite firmly, still staring blankly at her. There was no sign of weakness visible, not even when Amelia instructed Juliana to go about bandaging the shoulder again. Juliana was far from gentle after years of torment, Gregory knew... any responsive 'patient' would have showed the signs of tenderness as soon as she started, but Sawyer simply stood stock-still, eyes never wavering from the gaze he and Amelia shared.

            "If you'll excuse me," Gregory began, stifling a yawn, "I can see I am no longer needed." With that, not waiting for any kind of response or acknowledgement from the women around him, he departed, smiling smugly all the way back to his room.

* * *

            Skinner shivered for just a moment, wishing he had been able to don some sort of clothing before heading out to the edge of the dock to wait for any signs of Sawyer. He had been standing here for a good twenty minutes after sorting out a game plan with Jekyll, and he hugged his arms about his bare chest to try and warm himself, if only slightly. He didn't even come close to succeeding, and watched a pair of ladies walk past, grinning to himself, following them with his eyes before remembering his purpose. He shook his head, and yearned for a drink to warm his innards.

            _C'mon, Sawyer... how long can one guy stay 'gone' for anyway? You've got to come back **some** time... haven't you?_ It dawned on him then that maybe Sawyer wasn't _coming_ back. They hadn't considered this. It was something else to take in and log, try to make sense of. Skinner took comfort in the fact that no one could see the utter confusion sweep over his face.

            He hopped about quietly on the balls of his feet to try and regain some semblance of comfort, and tried not to breath too heavily, lest his breath be seen curling away from what should have been nothingness. He groaned quietly, and leaned back against the building nearest to the dock. He grumbled under his breath, and then cut himself off short when he caught sight of a mop of blonde hair that could only belong to one person.

            Sawyer!

            He was traversing the ground between the slimming crowds of New York and the Nautilus with ease and purpose, and Skinner watched him, coiled like a spring ready to... well, spring. His eyes never left his target, and as Sawyer nodded to some of Nemo's men, Skinner trotted off after him stealthily, tiptoeing up the ramp so as not to make it rattle.

            He followed after Sawyer, pausing absolutely when the young American halted in his tracks, and looked over his shoulder. Skinner took in the almost pale complexion of his friend, and confusion sprang back into precedence. Something really _was_ wrong with the younger man, and Skinner's concern swelled in the pit of his stomach. Either that or he was hungry... and this was no time for food. 

            _Stop staring, kid... **move**! Please...?_

And Sawyer did, after a moment of staring about with pensive narrowed eyes. He set off on his way again, looking oddly unburdened without his rifle. Jekyll had informed him that Sawyer was only carrying one pistol as well, but when Skinner realised fully where they were going, it only stood to reason the American was planning to rectify that unbalance.

            Sure enough, the arrived at the quarters of Tom Sawyer, and he retrieved his secondary pistol, opening the compartment and loading a fresh replacement bullet into it. He checked his other holstered pistol, and then filled up his Winchester with ease and startling speed, the blank look on his face probably the most unnerving thing. Skinner, despite himself, shuddered momentarily at the expression. In his moment of weakness, he jogged a lamp on the table, before jumping back away from it silently, and staring wide-eyed at the alerted Sawyer.

            The gun rose, prepared, and the green eyes stared resolutely around, before the rifle hung at his side, held in his left hand. He made to exit the room, and Skinner breathed in as much as possible so the two men would not collide. He let out the breath in relief when Sawyer passed right by him unawares.

            _Easy, Rodney... easy. You've done this a million times... what are you frightened of?_ Skinner swallowed, taking another deep breath, and traipsed on after Sawyer, realising with a racing of the heart that he was heading for the quarters of the only woman onboard.

* * *

            Mina glanced to the door when she heard a knock upon it, and tilted her head ever so delicately to one side. She set down her book at once, notes forgotten, and moved to open it, surprised to find Tom standing there. He smiled at her disarmingly. 

            When he didn't say anything, Mina laughed quietly, and asked, "Is something wrong, Tom?"

            "No, not really," Tom replied, and he sounded oddly eager for once. What had come over him? Mina took a sniff on the air discreetly, and smelt that same faint perfume, and something else... it couldn't be.

            No... it was impossible. Jekyll had said nothing of a wound before. Maybe it was only a cut... nothing to concern herself with.

            _Be careful, Mina... you've been burned before. You don't want it to happen again._

            Mina narrowed her eyes at him with a slight smile, and inquired, "Well, what is it then? Did you want my help with something?"

            Tom regarded her curiously for a moment, tilting his head to one side so that his hair fell around his eyes. He shook it aside and shrugged. "You could say that." He laughed. "One of my friends is eager to meet you. I told her about you, and she was fascinated."

            Mina narrowed her eyes anew, and said, "How much did you tell her, Tom?"

            "Oh, not too much," Tom insisted, holding up his right hand, the left occupied by his rifle. "Just about your science, that's all. That you were a chemist... that sort of thing."

            Mina thought deeply about Tom's words, and then realised the sincerity behind them. There couldn't be any harm in it, so long as her urges didn't kick in whilst they were talking or anything of the like. The last thing Mina wanted was to reveal her vampiric self to anyone outside of the _League_. She had done that for years before, and she was living to regret it. The faces of her untimely victims haunted her dreams, both in the night and the day when her mind ran away with her. 

            "Very well, Tom," Mina said with a sigh and a smile. "If you will give me a moment to change, I will come and meet your friend." She nodded her head to him when he smiled, and closed the door, locking it for the time being whilst she undressed out of her drab clothing. She wasn't going to go and get all dressed up and fancy to meet one of Tom's friends... she just hoped they were female. Perhaps it was the same woman who Tom had come back smelling of recently... she supposed she would find out.

            Within five minutes she had changed into a fresh white blouse, long black skirt with her heeled dark boots. She ensured the collar of her blouse was buttoned up tight, and she took her red necktie and fastened it about her neck firmly. She slipped on her ankle-length coat, buttoning it all the way up to her throat, and put her scarlet scarf about her shoulders, adjusting its position and throwing one long end over her left shoulder. She retrieved her veiled cap, and held it in her now-gloved hands as she reopened the door, smiling at Sawyer, who was standing in the exact same position she had left him in. He grinned at her eagerly.

            "You look nice," he told her, as though it was perfectly natural to say such things, and behaving in a manner that suggested he had never seen her dress so, before now. She laughed delicately, shaking her head. She slipped her hat on over her fastened hair.

            "Thank you, Agent Sawyer. Shall we?" she offered, waiting for him to take the lead out of the corridor, and subsequently, the Nautilus. He knew where to go after all. He took the hint, and started off at a brisk, yet easily matched pace, Mina on his heels.

            As she walked, she thought she sensed something, but then realised that she could hardly trust her otherworldly instincts sometimes. They always seemed to throw her off. With this in mind, she followed Tom.

* * *

            _Ah! Mina, don't follow him!_

            Despite the screaming in his head, Skinner jogged after the American and the vampire, cursing himself for his rash behaviour. He needed to speak to Jekyll... _now_! He needed to inform the doctor that he planned on following to wherever they were going. Something was very off about this whole situation, and the invisible man intended to find out just what that certain something was.

            As they started to descend the ramp, Skinner had a sudden idea. He tapped one of Nemo's trusted crewmen on the shoulder, seeing him start. "Ssh, it's only Skinner," he eased, and saw the man relax. He never took his eyes off his quarry as he whispered instructions to the man. The Indian crewman nodded, and Skinner was on his way again, briskly but cautiously. Despite the thinning of the crowds, the last thing he needed was to bump into some Yank who would yell out at the top of their voice and alert Sawyer and Mina to his position. 

            _Just **don't** lose sight of them_, his mind informed him needlessly, and he rolled his eyes at the unnecessary yammering of his own brain. He wished he could turn the blasted thing off, but he would need his wits about him if his gut instinct turned out to be correct. 

            So it was that Rodney Skinner put all his thieving techniques -without the actual thieving- into full swing. He ducked and darted through clumps of unawares people, shutting out their conversations, all available attention diverted firmly onto his target. 

            Sawyer and Mina pressed on with ease through the crowd. Obviously there was something about the young man holding a Winchester rifle that parted the people like he was about to turn on them all threateningly. With the way Sawyer had been behaving, Skinner wouldn't have been surprised.

            They seemed to walk for miles, but Skinner knew it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He _was_ quite lost though. 

            _Why didn't I bring a flare gun? Idiot..._

             As he carried on behind Sawyer and Mina at a safe distance, Skinner just hoped that Jekyll could interpret his request... and pay heed to it without debate. 

            Suddenly he didn't feel so confident.


	13. Spellbound

**A/N: **This chapter isn't quite as long, but it has healthy doses of different characters, and it starts to quicken the pace... if you know what I mean. I'm sure you do, so don't look at me that way! 

**MJ: **I'm not quite sure where the parent thing came from. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.

**sugaricing: **Thank you very much for your kind words, and welcome to the story. Glad you like it. Took me quite a while to work out the plot and its particulars, so I'm glad it's feasible... in it's own supernatural way.

**Sethoz: **The title just hit me, and it seemed really atmospheric for that chapter, especially since it's all coming to a climax. Hehe. Seems like your sister has a thing about Harry Potter, huh? So does she think you're obsessed with Shane? Well, I have one thing to say to her... are you mad?! **_Look_** at the man! P.s. Are you superstitious? You said 'The Scottish Play' instead of its title, and my PA tutor always used to do that... it's supposed to be bad luck to say that name in the theatre...

**Anacalagon: **There's a nice big chunk of Skinner in this one, don't you worry.

**drowchild: ***watches you* Um... aren't you gonna get kinda dizzy?

**Silent Bob 546: **Even though I've already explained, I'll go over it briefly again. Sawyer is the most vulnerable of the group, so if I were an evil mastermind planning to bring down the _League_, he would be the one I would go for personally. : )

**Beck2: **I hope this update was fast enough for you!

* * *

            Looking over Sawyer's shoulder with his own eyes, Amelia saw the beast following without question. She smiled herself, but managed to keep her own happiness from transferring through her psychic link onto the face of the American. That would have looked suspicious. The vampire might have realised something was amiss.

            Amelia wasn't sure whether she should feel comforted by the lack of resistance from Sawyer, or disturbed. It was like Gregory had wiped his mind clear of every semblance of fear to the situation. What had he done? Amelia couldn't help but wonder as to an explanation she knew she would not find.

            There was something else troubling her as well. When on the Nautilus, she thought she had sensed another presence... perhaps the invisible man. She hadn't been certain, but there had been an odd feeling about the corridor as she -in the body of Sawyer- had traversed it. If he had been there, Skinner had not betrayed himself though... she had been forced to ignore it.

            But if he _had_ followed, then let him come. He would be in for a surprise when the fun started.

* * *

            Henry Jekyll almost jumped three feet in the air when one of Nemo's men came up behind him in the infirmary. He had suppressed the shout of shock, and had whirled, eyes saucer-wide, and uttered, "Yes?"

            "Mr. Skinner asked that I come find you, Doctor," the man said. Jekyll tried to think of his name. He couldn't... for the life of him, he couldn't remember. Hyde didn't know either, but that came as no surprise. Hyde knew very little useful information other than the varying techniques to dismember a man and how to sneak up on and rape prostitutes. Henry suddenly felt nauseous, but pushed it aside as Hyde chuckled inside of him.

            "Is something wrong? Is someone hurt?" That good old medical instinct kicked in again, and his voice sounded confident once more. If only he could get it to stay that way.

            "He told me to tell you that he was going to follow Mrs. Harker and Agent Sawyer, Doctor," the man replied, standing very rigidly before Henry. It took the doctor a few moments to realise what was going on, before his eyes shot wide open again in comprehension and he gave an abrupt shout of fright.

            "What on Earth did he want to do that for?" he exclaimed, and the man before him started visibly. He fumbled for a reply.

            "I do not know, Doctor," he told Henry, "that was all he said. I suppose he thought you would know how to find him."

            "Well, dammit, I don't," Henry mumbled angrily, disbelieving as to Skinner's rashness and stupidity at a time like this. 

            _"Only one thing for it,"_ came the voice of Hyde. Henry groaned and dismissed the man so he could talk freely in the empty infirmary. He had been organising when the interruption had come.

            "Don't even think about it, Edward," Henry countered as he rifled through a pile of rolled up bandaged for his jacket. He knew it was here somewhere. "I know the way your mind works, remember? I know exactly what it is you wish to do."

            Hyde grumbled for a moment. _"You know in your heart this is the only way you can save any of them. The thief, the vampire... the brat. You **know** something is wrong... you just won't admit that I am right... again."_

            "Well what about Nemo?" Henry inquired.

            _"Forget the Indian. He is of little use when there is no need for martial arts and technology. I'm the only one you need worry about, Edward. I can help you find them all."_

            Henry rubbed his tired eyes in pensive consideration, and frowned deeply. Was Hyde right? Was there truly no other way to save his friends, his team-mates? There _had_ to be another way, but the more Henry thought about it, the more he realised the truth. Edward _was_ right... there _was_ no other way, and he had no other choice.

            His mind made up, Henry set about his task.

* * *

            The cold did not bother him now, he realised; his mind was so focused on his task that his eyes never left his targets and he still managed to avoid bumping into the members of the slimming crowd. His attention never wavered for a second, so intent was he that Skinner never even realised that they had reached a building until he set foot over the threshold just behind Mina.

            _Now what?_ Skinner asked himself when his mind snapped back into reality and thoughts became comprehensible. Sawyer and Mina were approaching the banister of the stairs in the gloom of the entrance hall, and Skinner took a moment to look about. An unused chandelier hung from the ceiling, coated in cobwebs new and old alike. There was a -he presumed- locked doorway off to his left in the entrance hall, and a shadowed area underneath the stairs themselves. Other than that, the foyer was bare and bland, even the once-polished floor was now in dire need of care and attention.

            Skinner made his way to the stairs to follow his unawares companions, but his eyes caught sight of something on the banister. He touched his fingers to it gently, keeping one eye on Mina and Sawyer as they climbed the remainder. Skinner wished Mina had taken a moment to look around herself... she might have noticed the bullet hole then. 

            His wits about him, Skinner completed his climb of the stairs, and turned a right, as did Sawyer and Mina. He followed noiselessly behind them, glancing this way and that every now and then to try and keep from getting lost. It was surprisingly large inside, considering the impression one got at first glance on the exterior. 

            Skinner trailed behind them, all the way into a vast room. It was only when he was inside did he realise that he should have gone back to get Jekyll and Nemo. There was a dry laugh from the shadows of the room, and Mina and Skinner turned as one, both shocked, and their eyes searched for the owner of the voice. 

            Skinner glanced quickly at Mina to register her alarm, and that was when he noticed Sawyer staring blankly... too void of emotion. It was frightening. A woman loomed out of the shadowed corner she had concealed herself in, and regarded Mina with a fiery glare.

            "Welcome, Wilhelmina," the woman said, in dry, humourless tones that sent a shiver down Skinner's spine. He shuddered despite himself, and tried to find his voice. Another figure, and then another appeared in the doorway. If this were any other situation, Skinner might have been excited by the presence of two attractive females. They both looked just as chilling as the first though, despite their age, and Skinner actually took a step back, though he knew they couldn't see him.

            "Who are you... what is going on?" Mina had the presence of mind to ask, looking between the faces of the women. She removed her veiled hat slowly, blue eyes ever watchful.

            The woman laughed again, an eerie sound that echoed around the dusty, dark room. "That's right, Harker... you do not know _me_... but you knew my lover, and my son... tell me," she paused, trailing off in an odd way, her face devoid of expression as well now, "did they taste good? Was it _worth_ it?"

            _Oh, this is **not** good_, Skinner's mind chattered incessantly. His thoughts started to run together in a mess, and he wanted nothing more than to grab Mina and Sawyer -despite his nonchalant appearance- and run from the room.

            Mina looked shaken, visibly, and her fear was evident in her gaze. She actually looked frightened... something that did nothing to calm Skinner's own nerves. 

            _I have to get out of here... I have to find Jekyll_, Skinner thought coherently, and he started towards the door as silently as he could manage.

            "How..." Mina managed to utter through her confusion. 

            The sound that next carried to Skinner's ears made him freeze entirely, his eyes wide as he listened.

            It was of two voices coinciding to make one sentence, and the sound chilled Skinner anew; "I've been watching you."

            Skinner turned his head as the words resonated, and saw the woman's mouth moving, as well as Sawyer's. They were speaking together... and then it hit him, as unreasonable as it sounded. It explained everything!

            Sawyer was under the woman's control.   

            "I'll leave you two alone," the woman said, unaccompanied this time, and moved out of the door, almost brushing past Skinner.

            _Don't close the door!_ Skinner's mind screamed, but it was too late. The handle clicked shut, and there was the audible sound of a key turning. They were trapped.

            Skinner's mind ran in a fever of possibilities that all fought for precedence, and he tried to reason his way out of madness.

            He didn't do very well.

* * *

            Mina slowly turned back to Tom, her breathing rapid now, and she eyed him warily. His eyes were cold and hard, and he panted visibly, his chest heaving. Discreetly, she took another sniff on the air... it _was_ blood, and she felt a fool for not realising it before. That woman had done something to Tom... something terrible.

            "Tom..." Mina began, and she dropped her hat to the floor, for she had an awful feeling she knew what was going to happen, "listen to the sound of my voice, Tom. Fight her... don't let her control you."

            "Too late," came Tom's reply, and though it was in his own voice, it sounded eerily different. It was the woman speaking _through_ him, Mina knew. She had to try her best to save her friend without falling victim to whatever plan of vengeance this woman had conceived in the process.

            Tom raised the rifle and let off a shot, but Mina's instincts saved her terrible injury. She leapt through the air, going into a roll mid-flight, and landed the other side of the American. Though it pained her to do so, she kicked him in the back of the knee, and as he fell, she tore the Winchester from his hand, tossing it aside. 

            The vampire within started to take control, and she knew without seeing her reflection that her eyes were starting to darken, turn red. The darkness in the room did not hinder her vision, and she was thankful of her abilities once again... though they had been the cause for this mess in the first place, she realised.

            Tom turned on her, and leapt like a wild animal. He crashed into her, driving her back into the wall. Mina used all of her strength to throw him away, and he fell to the floor, rolling over and over before coming into a predatory crouch. Mina regarded him for a moment, and cast aside the thought of even trying to reason with the young man. He was not himself... he could not hear her, could not see what he was doing; even if he could, he clearly had no control.

            Mina charged, even as Tom stood, and she rammed into him, driving the both of them forcefully backwards, and they slammed against the door with an audible and resonating clang. Tom let out a shout, and Mina felt a pang of guilt.

            When the screaming did not stop, she stepped back, frightened and shaking. Her eyes returned to normal. "Tom... oh god, Tom, I'm sorry."

            She only realised it was a ruse when it was too late, and he had thrown himself on top of her, driving them both down to the floor with a thud. Mina felt the wind knocked out of her, and she gasped. Tom's hands held her wrists, pinning them forcefully to the floor in an iron grip. She tried to push him off, but then he did something she did not expect.

            After staring at her for a moment, he leaned down quickly and kissed her passionately, hungrily. She tried to resist, but when she felt his hands release their grip, she was fooled into thinking this was Tom Sawyer... the real Tom, not a puppet.

            He tore away from her quickly, and Mina let out a scream when he stabbed something into her. 

            She had fallen for the distraction, and with a pained gasp, she looked down at her stomach to see a long dagger protruding, Tom's hand still gripped around the hilt.

            Mina looked up into Tom's face, and he smiled slyly. Then he leaned down and kissed her again, fingers of his free hand wrapping mercilessly tight in her hair and keeping her head down.

            Though she tried with all of her being to fight out the presence that was bleeding into her consciousness, the shock and the pain made it too difficult, and she was soon losing the battle.


	14. Butterflies & Hurricanes

**A/N: **Okay... first things first... **_please_** don't hate me after you've read this chapter. On second thought... I'd best start running! *grabs her coat*

**Sethoz: **_Not_ the Dorian glare! *screams* Okay... I'm calm. Glad you liked the creepy line :D Took me ages to actually think of something eerie :S Your sister is officially **_insane_**!

**Anacalagon: **Hmm... best change the end then ;) Only kidding... or am I?

**drowchild: ***looks at crumbled heap* Hmm... *throws a blanket over you*

**Beck2: **I try to update as soon as I can to keep people interested. Hope's it's working :D

**Silent bob 546: **Glad I could clear things up.

**Capt. Cow: **Hmm... *thinks carefully* My answer would be a big, fat 'no'.

* * *

            Amelia allowed the smile to come to her face as she felt her control slipping from the mind of the tortured Agent Sawyer into that of the murderous Mina Harker. The wounding and shock had done much to weaken her, and Amelia met little resistance. She pushed deeper, forcing the vampire's own rebellious consciousness further and further below the surface where it could be buried.

            She took a great sense of comfort in knowing that she had not only wounded the vampire, she had caused her great pain. Whilst forcing Sawyer into the second kiss to keep Harker's mind in a swirling state of confusion, Amelia had made the young man's hand twist on the hilt, ripping open the wound horribly. It only served to make her job easier.

            "I have her..." she breathed to her associates, closing her eyes and letting her mind flood and merge with that of the vampire.

* * *

            Skinner was still crouching on the floor in shock and a moderate state of horror after the gunshot when he looked up at the sound of a scream... a feminine scream. Mina... she was hurt, and he saw to his dismay that Sawyer had driven a long dagger into her abdomen, and then twisted it. That wasn't all... he was _kissing_ her now. 

            _Oh, god... what do I do?_ Skinner thought, shaking with fright. He couldn't remember being this afraid in a long time. All of this was getting a bit too much, and he had to do something to help Mina... not to mention Sawyer, if the American was saveable at all. Skinner, with a sudden sense of dread, had a terrible feeling that he might be beyond the point of help.

            But it was with all the bravery he could muster that Skinner pulled himself off of the floor, and ran towards the sight in front of him. He rammed into Sawyer, and gripped his jacket tightly with his fingers, yanking him forcefully off of the wounded woman. Mina simply lay, panting.

            When they rolled away, Skinner and Sawyer parted, and the latter let out an anguished cry. Skinner composed himself after the shock of doing what he had done, and turned his gaze upon the American to see him curled up in pain on the floor, head to the ground, eyes clamped shut. He groaned loudly.

            Skinner had an awful feeling all of a sudden that only heightened when the sound of heels firmly hitting the ground travelled to his ears. He raised his head, and saw Mina standing, eyes glaring, face void of expression... like Sawyer had been not so long ago. A growl filled the air.

            Skinner froze, even as Mina placed a hand on the protruding hilt of the dagger Sawyer had used, and pulled, ripping it out of her stomach without so much as a show of pain. Skinner's jaw dropped.

            This was not good... not one bit.

* * *

            Tom was in so much pain he could barely keep his mind running, but he froze when he realised he was no longer with his parents in Missouri, and when his consciousness suddenly felt very prominent... he was back in control. He cursed himself for letting the illusion of his mother and father take over, and he placed a hand on the ground to try and steady himself, to try and stop the shaking.

            He tried to comprehend what had happened, and then he realised what Amelia had sensed, and on a sudden whim, he managed to utter one word, a name; "Skinner?"

            "Dammit, Sawyer, don't just sit there, move!" Skinner's voice came back to him, urgent, and Tom opened his eyes and looked up... into the face of Mina Harker.

            "Mina?" Tom gasped, breathing irregularly. Then he realised what had truly happened. "Oh god... Mina..."

            She had reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and jacket before he could so much as scramble away from her, and she lifted him clean off the floor with a ferocious growl. Tom looked into her eyes, seeing the red bleed into them. He snatched at her hand as it shifted to close around his throat, and she drove him back into the wall behind them, snarling loudly.

            "Mina!" he choked, kicking out at her, knowing that he could only try his best to rouse her from the control of Amelia. "Mina, don't!" She tightened her grip, cutting off his oxygen, and he closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth, trying to breathe.

            "Sawyer!" Skinner's disembodied voice shouted from a little way off to the side, before something slammed into Mina, knocking her off balance. Mina and Tom fell to the ground, the latter coughing violently and trying to regain his footing, though it pained him to even attempt movement.

            Mina was back on her feet in moments, and her red eyes cast about in search of her invisible attacker.

            Tom panted for breath, trying to regain some semblance of a rhythm, and looked around quickly, trying to locate something that might help. Then he spotted it... his rifle. Before he moved to grab it, he stopped himself, reaching with his left hand to his waist... his guns. He drew one from the holster, and aimed at the vampire, calling her name.

            There was nothing even remotely like a response from her, and then Tom glared and shouted, "Amelia!"

            The red eyes turned on him then, and another growl formed in Mina's throat, though she was not in control of her own actions. Tom locked gazes with her. 

            "Amelia... stop," Tom said in a low, dangerous voice as he pushed himself to his feet, swaying dangerously for a moment. He felt something at his side, a brushing against his coat. Skinner.

            Mina's mouth opened, and Amelia spoke through her, saying, "Or you'll do what, Agent Sawyer? Pull the trigger?" A laugh, and Tom shuddered. "I think not. You wish to _save_ her life, not end it with a bullet... though that would be difficult, and you know it."

            Tom ignored the burning in his wounded shoulder, and pulled the other pistol from its holster, levelling it with the first, pulling both hammers back simultaneously, and adding, "I'd rather see her die this way then put her through what I've suffered."

            The laugh sounded again, hollow and threatening. "How very noble of you, Agent Sawyer. But I could simply let enough of Harker surface for her to smell the blood you can feel under your bandages even now. Do you really think, in her state, that she would be able to resist the urge to feed?"

            "Sawyer..." Skinner warned, and Tom could hear his heavy, panicked breathing. 

            Tom ignored his friend, guns never wavering, though his hands shook slightly. His shoulder burned madly, and he could indeed -as Amelia said- feel the sticky warmth of blood flow from under the bandage over the wound. He had lost count of the amount of times it must have been torn open, again and again. 

            "What is it to be, boy?" Amelia asked him through Mina, and he closed his eyes so as not to let his emotions get in the way. "Will you leave her fate in my hands... or pull the triggers and try to 'save' her yourself?"

            Tom trembled anew, and opened his eyes suddenly, determination flashing through him for just an instant. Amelia seemed to recognise his newfound resolve, and she let a growl emerge from her host. She started forward suddenly.

            Even as Skinner shouted at him to do otherwise, Tom pulled the triggers.

* * *

            Skinner shouted at the top of his lungs for Tom to stop, but as he did so he found he'd closed his eyes and covered his own head, for the volume hurt his ears and he couldn't bear to watch. When he looked up at the sudden silence, he saw no bleeding body on the floor, only nothingness. 

            _Okay... where'd she-_

            A hissing from above caused Skinner and Sawyer to look up suddenly, and with yelps they both threw themselves aside, even as Mina came swooping down towards them from the ceiling. A few bats coiled around her, but Skinner seriously doubted if the woman had enough control over the vampire to summon them all into being. 

            Skinner landed roughly on the floor, and grumbled, looking back as Mina came swooping towards _him_. The noise of his landing had attracted her attention, and he scrambled to get to his feet.

            Sawyer had rolled with his own landing, obviously trained, but he unbalanced and fell onto his back, wincing. He had dropped both pistols, and held a hand to his right shoulder. 

            Skinner was too preoccupied to go help his friend, and he managed to stand. He contemplated trying to fight Mina, but then realised how incredibly dumb and reckless that would have been. She would have made short work of him. So instead, he paid heed to the next natural instinct... run. He darted off sideways across the room, hoping the woman would become confused.

            To his horror, the red pupils followed him, and she started to move towards him, growling menacingly.

            Skinner ducked under a blow that was aimed at him, but still felt the breeze caused by it as it rushed past his bare skin. She would have him soon if he didn't find some way of distracting or confusing her... perhaps both. 

            Without realising what had happened, Skinner felt her grab his arm, and as he looked her in the face, he saw the sly smile there. If it were possible -which he would never have suspected until now- Mina wasn't quite so appealing anymore. She was downright horrifying.

* * *

            Tom turned his head, and looked through pained eyes to see Mina standing on the other side of the room, and he furrowed his brow at her posture. Then he realised the reason behind it, as he saw her clasped hand around an intangible object that could have only been Skinner's arm.

            Without thinking, Tom rolled onto his knees, and stretching out with his good arm he grabbed his Winchester by the barrel. He managed to scramble to his feet, unsteadily, and moved immediately over to the other visible figure, swinging the stock around like a club. 

            It was so sudden he barely registered it, but Mina ducked as if having sensed the blow, and her other arm shot out. It struck Tom in the wounded shoulder, knocking him down. Luckily he hadn't hit Skinner instead after missing Mina. The Winchester clattered away across the floor.

            Tom heard a cry and then a subsequent crash as Skinner was thrown across the room. He kicked out with both feet, cursing his clumsy aim when he missed by only an inch, disturbing Mina's skirts as she approached him.

            With a growl, she came down on top of him, fangs bared, eyes blazing terrifyingly. Tom tried to push her off, but she only slammed his hands down onto the ground, pinning him. One of her knees came down on his stomach, keeping him down, her other on his legs, and she lowered her face towards his. 

            "Mina," he tried, and he looked for signs of recognition on her face, finding none, "don't do this... please, listen to me."

            She growled again, and shifted her grip, holding both of his wrists tightly with only one of her hands now. Her fingers on her other hand twined through his tousled hair, and pulled his head roughly down to the ground. He winced, and tried to struggle against her, wincing when it pained him to attempt it. 

            "Mina," he said again, but he gave a sharp hiss and he found no more words would come.

            Fangs exposed, she lowered her head to Tom's exposed neck.


	15. Pulling Punches

**A/N: **I'd say sorry about the previous mean cliff-hanger, but we'd all know I wouldn't mean it :D It was too tempting to resist! Hehe. Okay, okay, don't glare... I _am_ sorry... to an extent. Gah! You would not **_believe_** the writer's block on this one! *pouts* Plus I'm coming down with something... so this chapter, cruddy as it is, was probably influenced by illness or cough medicine :S I am **_so_** sorry it is so short. The next one won't be, and by then, hopefully, I won't have this awful writer's block *pout*

**Maikafuiniel: **Lol! Never heard _that_ one before. : ) Thank you though... I think, and thank you for putting my stories up on your site :D I feel kinda blessed now...

**Anacalagon: **Rights to Skinner... hmmm... could come in handy, I tells ya'! As for what happened to him, well... you'll see ; )

**Sethoz: **I know... ff.net is being a bit of a spooty (means stupid... didn't you ever _watch_ 'Angry Beavers'?) site. Mina biting Tom was an urge I just could not resist... oops, did I say she'd bitten him? Didn't mean to say that, Bwahaha! Yet... ooh... now I'm just teasing you aren't I? : ) *gets defibrillator on Sethoz immediately* Clear!

**Panzergal: **Why not? *stares* Okay... maybe not then. *changes notes... just kidding* Gunslinger? LOL! Not a terrible word, but I'm pretty sure you didn't mean it as an outright compliment :D 

**Graymoon74: **Ah, hello again! *laughs at the use of 'Holy Crumb!'* As for shooting Amelia, they'd have to get through the door first ; )

**Beck2: **Fast updates are what I like to see, so I try to do the same for my readers. Helps the story flow, and people are encouraged to stick with it. If a story takes ages to update (this is in **_NO_** way a hint to anyone whose story I'm reading), then people can lose interest, and forget about it and never come back. And I don't want that : (

**drowchild: **_MAJOR_ cliffy, yes. Couldn't resist. *cookie* Forgive me?

*cookies all round*

**angelic katty: **Thank you kindly! Welcome back!

**Capt. Cow: **Lol. Ah yes, the title of chapter 14 was majorly influenced by my love for a band called Muse (ironic, no?) and I was titling the chapter when it was playing, so... it applied in some suitable way to the situation in general, and YOINK! ; )

**Katie: **Are you sure about that? Hehe.

**Silent Bob 546: **Aha, yes, time for another quick explanation I think. Normally, Mina _would_ have been strong enough to stop that, but with her wounding and the shock, Amelia broke through her defences... savvy? I hope that clears everything up :D Don't want confused readers now, do I? And thank you **_so_** much for your praise... you really are too kind. 

**Avalea: **Aw, why thank you : ) I wrack my brains as much as possible, and just ramble, to answer you question. Lol. Yeah, I know... bad explanation. I have no idea.

* * *

            Jekyll had stopped by and run things over with Nemo before departing the ship. He had located a fire escape close at hand, and had proceeded quite hastily -though not without caution- to climb it to its limit. Upon reaching the roof of the building, he retrieved a vial of his formula from his pocket. Hyde churned inside of him, and he felt nauseous with Edward's anticipation.

            Setting his resolve, Henry pulled the stopped from the bottle, and poured the contents into his mouth, the foul tasting liquid burning his throat on the way down. He grimaced at once, and then let out a low anguished moan, collapsing to his knees even as Edward started to surge through him, fighting for the surface like someone held under water for too long against their will.

            Henry did not fight it, and soon felt the comforting darkness of suppression come over him in its entirety.

* * *

            Edward gave out a triumphant bellow upon breaking free, standing in a great hulking, muscular mass on the rooftop to someone's abode. He growled, and looked around himself, eyes quickly adjusting to the harsh reality of his surroundings. 

            The voice of Jekyll started to chirp away inside of him anxiously, and he paid heed to it for he had little else to do. Plus... he had promised. Edward was -in many forms- a monster, but he rarely went against a promise. 

            Letting his senses guide him, Edward started leaping from rooftop to rooftop with a ferocity that made Jekyll squirm. The doctor had the nerve to think that Edward would fall!

            The scents he was tracking came stronger to him now, and he travelled with more certainty and agility than before, covering vast distances in startling spaces of time. 

            He would be upon his quarries soon.

* * *

            Skinner reeled from the jolt he received upon his -rather rough- landing, and groaned, rubbing his head, before coming to his senses. He glanced about; hearing a scuffle from across the room, and nearly gave a shout of horror. Mina was on top of Sawyer, having succeeded in pinning him in a very effective, if not rough, way. 

            Skinner could find no words, and he cast his eyes about quickly as he noticed what Mina was doing... or rather the woman controlling Mina. Damn, it was all so confusing! It made Skinner's head ache, though that could have been explained by the drinks he had consumed lately or having been thrown across the room. 

            _Aha!_ He nearly exclaimed it out loud, but grabbed the revolver Sawyer had dropped, and aimed it as best he could, before pulling the trigger.

            All he received for his troubles was a worrying click. The gun was empty. 

            "Dammit!" he hissed, dropping the gun, and grumbled as he climbed to his feet again, sore all over. He ran over to Mina as she got closer and closer to biting Sawyer. Skinner didn't know what he planned on doing, but when he got over to her, he did the only thing that sprang to mind... and it was rather juvenile.

            But it worked.

            Skinner grabbed Mina's hair with both of his hands and yanked with all his might on her head, pulling her backwards with a ferocious growl that made him let go. She had already lost her grip on Sawyer though, who slammed his boots into her and sent her sailing backwards, Skinner and all.

            "Hey!" Skinner yelled before he realised Mina would hear him. The red eyes turned on him, and he panicked anew. He swallowed dryly, and stared back, trying not to make any noise. She didn't quite seem to have his position fixed. She kept darting her eyes an inch or so to the left and right every couple of tense seconds and sniffing.

            Which was when the stock of Sawyer's rifle slammed into the back of her skull, and she slumped forward. Sawyer stood, wavering, over her, rifle in his hand, panting heavily. He had just a trickle of blood running down his neck from where the tip of a fang had managed to graze his skin, though there was no definite puncture. 

            Skinner let out a sigh of relief when Mina did not leap back off the floor all hisses and fury, and glanced up thankfully to Sawyer... who chose that moment to collapse himself.

            "Oh for..." Skinner crawled over to his friend, who lay on his back, chest heaving as if deeply exhausted, unconscious. Skinner waited, hovering over him for a moment, to see if it was only a quick lapse in awareness, but Sawyer's eyes did not open. Skinner cursed.

            Before he got up to check on anything else, Skinner remembered Sawyer having cried out as if in great pain, and on a whim, touched a hand to the younger man's right shoulder, which the American had cradled not long ago. 

            Skinner furrowed his brow, and peeled back the lapel of Sawyer's jacket, and gave a great sigh of worry. Blood stained the shirt underneath quite visibly, but before he could go about trying to do anything about the problem, the door gave a great creak and a clang, as if unlocked from the outside.

            A man strode in, a dagger drawn with a long imposing blade gleaming in the wan light. His eyes were alight with an angry fire, and Skinner almost whimpered with fright, despite his usual mask of nonchalance. Outside in the hall, the older woman Skinner had seen first was on her knees, holding her head yet still scowling. The youngest of the women was by her side, whispering soothing things to her in a gentle voice. 

            "And how do you expect me to find an invisible assailant?" the man grumbled, blade still at the ready. He half-glanced out into the hallway with dark, menacing eyes. There was a danger about him that Skinner picked up on right away. 

            "I don't care _how_ you find him, Gregory, just _find_ him!" the woman on her knees growled, and Skinner furrowed his brow with concern. A distraction would have been nice. 

            Of course, Skinner thanked his lucky stars, and everyone else's for that matter, when there came a great commotion from down in the foyer, like it was being torn apart. A bellowing reached the room they were in, and Skinner nearly squealed in delight. 

            _Hyde!_ Skinner thought, _Wonderful, murderous Hyde! I didn't think I'd ever be happy to see... well, **hear** that brute!_

            "Gregory! Juliana! Go!" the kneeling woman shouted authoratively, and the two of them took off to face the threat. How the tallest of the women was going to defend herself, Skinner did not know, but he did not want to speculate. He knew now it was folly to underestimate a woman... he wouldn't be making that mistake again any time soon. 

* * *

             Gregory charged towards the foyer with Juliana in hot pursuit. She was holding the edges of her skirts up to run effectively without falling, but Gregory was tearing ahead, stiletto blade in his hand, ready to put an end to whatever was making so much noise downstairs.

            When he reached the banister though, he stopped, shocked. He stared down with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. He had no idea what it was... other than a deformed human being, which was exactly how it looked. It had ripped clean through the door, taking half the wall with it.

            It stopped itself in its act of destruction, and looked up at him with small, dark eyes, growling. "I'm here for some... 'friends' of mine."

            Gregory raised an eyebrow at the sound of the beast's voice. It was fluent in the English language, and Gregory found this more annoying than intriguing. Juliana was at his side now, and she glared down at the monstrosity. 

            It gave a grunt, and a loud snarl of anger. Juliana was attacking it. She cocked her head to one side, and the beast roared.

            Gregory watched with a smile.

* * *

**A/N2: **Again... I feel inclined to apologise _again_ for the shortness and the lack of development. Arggh... *goes off to beat self senseless with frying pan* Ow... *tries to get to work on a much better, much longer Chapter 16*


	16. Chaos That Reigns

**A/N: **The writer's block eased off a little every now and then these past couple of days, and I was able to squeeze this out. It jumps about a bit, but I think I'm getting there. Hopefully...

**Sethoz: ***is flattened, and tries to get up* Ow... okay, that kinda hurt. Well, I tried to update as soon as possible, perhaps in the hope that you wouldn't try and kill me, which you tried anyway! And the cliffy to 15 was _nowhere_ near as bad as 14! 

**RogueSparrow: ***is now snug and cosy* Aw, thanks! *snuggles into her blanket* Well perhaps it is your doing that this chapter came into being. I thank you for your concern! *cookies*

**Anacalagon: **I'm getting better now, thanks. I just felt really down for a day or two. *grumbles* And yes, Skinner is very cool :D Hence my sudden great usage of him. Poor Hyde? Perhaps not...

**Silent Bob 546: **Luckily Sparrow got that frying pan away before I did too much damage to my noggin (head). Thank you, as always.

**drowchild: ***squeals at the gift, and then stops self from being too girly* Ahem... thank you kindly :D And perhaps your potion did work...

**Avalea: **Wow... that means a lot to me. Thank you very much. You're too kind. 

**Capt. Cow: **The titles can be difficult sometimes. They either come to you or they don't ; )

**Niani: **Aw, don't worry about it. I still really appreciate that you did indeed review at all! Angst seems to be a favourite genre, and as for Skinner... he's fun to write :D

**Angelic katty: **Thank you! Luckily, the frying pan has been put away... for now. Hopefully I won't need it again with all this support egging me on!

**Katie: **Tom/Mina fan? Lol, cool. There were signs in the film weren't there? At least I thought so... 

**Angharad: **Yes, Juliana is quite an evil bint, isn't she? At least people seem to think so. Hehe.

* * *

            Hyde did not understand what was happening to him, but Jekyll seemed to grasp the situation and shouted instructions at him through the pain. Edward bellowed, and clutched at his head, snarling furiously. 

            _"Edward!"_ Jekyll yelled in his mind, only serving to confuse him more with the barrage of... whatever it was. _"Listen to me! You have to break her eye contact!"_

Edward growled menacingly, not fully comprehending the reason behind such a foolish demand, but took up great shattered chunks of brick and started hurling them, roaring all the while, at the woman and the man up on the banister. As he continued to try and hit them, he felt the pain lessening. Jekyll had been right.

            _"I do have my moments,"_ came the voice of the frail doctor from within, but in his triumph, Edward did not hear him.

* * *

            Mina inhaled sharply in shock as she woke, a pain in the back of her head prominent upon reaching awareness. She held a hand to it, and felt her hair had been dislodged from its pins and holdings. The area at the base of her skull ached slightly, but even now, the pain was lessening, her vampiric healing kicking in, even for so small an injury.

            She came to fully comprehend what had happened... she had _seen_ it all as it had transpired, and she immediately cast her eyes about to try and find her associates... she rarely called them friends. 

            "Tom?" she mumbled, the shock still shaking her voice, though she cursed her nerves for it afterwards. Her green eyes cast about in a daze, starting to readjust to her control and the light, and she saw him.

            He was lying on his back some six feet from her, breathing heavily. His scent more than anything drew her to him, and she crept over on all fours, though it was very unladylike, and she came to hover over him. "Tom?"

            He stirred slightly, groaning quietly, one of his hands flexing. He did not wake though.

            Mina stared down at his neck, where one of her own fangs had grazed the skin and drawn a trickle of blood. She swallowed dryly, and the potent smell made her draw back his jacket. She closed her eyes at once and tried to fight the urge. Mina touched a hand to the wound, bleeding underneath the white -now ruined- shirt Tom wore.

            _So tempting... _

            "You all right?"

            Mina gave a shout and started violently, swinging out at where she thought Skinner was. She missed, or at least she guessed she had by the lack of contact her hand made with anything other than air.

            "Easy! _He's_ the one who knocked you out, not me!" came the sound of Skinner's disembodied complaint. She heard his breathing then.

            "I am sorry if I hurt you, Mr. Skinner," she said quietly, ashamed. 

            A sound from the doorway alerted Mina's senses before Skinner could utter his response, and her eyes darted to the figure standing there. Blue eyes blazed angrily, and even as they watched, Tom's rifle rose from the ground beside the American. 

            There was a noticeable yelp as it was projected in the direction Skinner's voice had come from, and a thud as what must have been the invisible man's body hit the floor to avoid a serious concussion. 

            Mina took the oppurtunity to stand, and gaped slightly at the burning in her abdomen from where Tom -no, not Tom... that woman, Amelia- had stabbed her. She fought down the pain, though the wound had almost completely healed itself already, and charged towards the door, launching herself into the young woman and knocking them both to the floor. Mina growled.

            The young woman did not scream as Mina had expected her to, but instead simply stared into the vampire's reddening eyes.

            "I would take your hands off my daughter if I were you, beast."

            Mina looked up, and then released the young woman, her attention diverted now to Amelia. The older woman stood about ten feet from Mina, staring intently with menace and anger, shaking visibly. 

            _Her control has weakened her_, Mina noted, and realised that if given the oppurtunity, this could be used to her advantage. Mina stood, stepping away from the fallen young woman.

            "Elizabeth," Amelia said calmly, her voice such a contrast to her outward experience it was startling, "you know what to do with the boy."

            Mina snarled again, and her eyes were blood red now, threatening and overtaken by the vampire inside. She felt her fangs press against her tongue.

            "Yes, Mrs. Harker... I thought that might get a response out of you," Amelia said without humour, and turned on her heel to depart.

            Mina launched her body forward to try and knock the woman off balance, but she had ducked into an adjacent corridor, weaving this way and that to avoid capture. Mina pursued without hesitation. 

* * *

            Skinner slipped out of the room past the young woman, and tried to keep his mind from thinking she was very appealing indeed. He rushed past her so quickly he startled himself, and then cursed his haste as he turned back at the clang of the door. He nearly squeaked in fright, and clamped a hand over his mouth.

            _I left Sawyer in that room! With that **girl**!_ He guessed she had slipped inside due to the fact he could no longer see her, and unless she too had the power of invisibility, he doubted she had moved fast enough to escape his line of sight. 

            He ran back to the door, and tried to handle. It wouldn't budge. How the hell had she managed to lock it from the _inside_? He hadn't seen a locking device! Cursing himself again, Skinner turned back at the sounds of crashing from the foyer again. His feet carried him the distance, and he stopped when he saw what was transpiring.

            Had Hyde finally gone completely mad? Was all hope lost for his sanity?

            _No, he's just incredibly angry_, Skinner reasoned, and ducked a brick that came sailing at him. He almost yelled at Hyde to watch his aim, but stopped himself when he realised that the man and the third woman were also ducking projectile building materials. Hyde was bellowing madly, yelling something about attacking him.

            _Well that was unwise of them to try_, Skinner mused. Hyde ceased to hurl bricks and building materials when both of the enemies leapt out of his line of sight. The man threw himself in the opposite direction, whilst the woman dove towards Skinner... _into_ him in fact!

            Skinner went tumbling to the ground with the woman not far away, and her hard gaze fell upon his rough whereabouts at once. She obviously couldn't place his position clearly, but she had felt him. She sneered, and Skinner winced. He had felt a twinge of pain in his skull that could only be explainable by the woman. 

            _What **are** these people?_

            Skinner made short work of darting away from his previous position with as much stealth as he could muster, and the woman's mysterious gaze fell upon certain places. She couldn't find him... that was the explanation Skinner came to when he felt no pain; he was sure she was trying to inflict it upon him. 

            Using all the techniques he had learned over the years of being what he liked to call a 'master thief', Skinner kept himself in motion without making a sound, hoping the woman would not find him.

            He heard Hyde coming up the stairs, roaring all the way.

* * *

            Starting to regain consciousness, Tom Sawyer forced his eyes to open. He could remember the last thing he had seen, and heard, and knew it was not a time for him to stop being on the alert. 

            The first thing he became aware of other than the ache spreading through him like wildfire, was that the barrel of his own rifle was now pointed at him, quite of its own accord.

            With an abrupt curse, Tom rolled his way to the right, hearing the gun let off a shot. He looked back, seeing that he had been incredibly lucky. He turned his head to the doorway, where Elizabeth stood, eyes fixed on the gun. Her anger was clear on her face. He knew that -not that the gunshot hadn't given it away- she was intending to kill him.

            Tom fought his way off the ground, even as the gun fired at him again. It missed by a very comfortable inch. He was amazed Elizabeth could even use her ability to pull the trigger, let alone use the finger lever to reload! It shouldn't have been possible.

            She was blocking the exit, and had him well and truly at a loss to what he should do. He knew Elizabeth despised men, and would do anything to end his life. Tom had no intention of letting that happen. Despite the pain he felt burning through him, he ducked the gun as it flew towards his head at great velocity instead of firing on him again.

            The gun continued to pursue Tom in some awful parody of a dance, and the American ducked and rolled out of its way, aching with every move he made, breathing heavily with the incredible effort he had to make. It was getting more and more difficult to stay on his feet.

            The concentration on Elizabeth Kendrick's face was unmistakable. She had set her mind on the murder of Tom, and nothing else would do. Though there must have been simpler ways to do it, she seemed oddly satisfied in seeing Tom avoid his own weapon of choice. 

            Tom was starting to tire, and his patience began to wear thin... not that it had been much to start with. He was hurt, he was angry, and he had had enough. Glaring up at Elizabeth from his crouched position on the floor, he barely registered the gun in front of him. It never wavered, but the expression on Elizabeth's face did.

            That was when Tom saw it... a slight dip in the barrel of the gun. She was losing her hold on the object, her power waning. Tom stifled the smile, and was on his feet at once, his actions quick and smooth. He shocked himself with his deftness after his ordeal, but put it down to rage and adrenaline.

            His hands grabbed the barrel of the gun, his head ducking as the shot exploded out of it. He fought against her, tilting the gun as much as possible, trying to turn it as much as possible. She didn't seem to notice what he was trying to do. She was too busy trying to keep her hold of it aimed on him, and him alone. 

            Elizabeth did not even register that he planned for _her_ to be the new target.


	17. Fight or Flight

**A/N: **Okay, this one is made up of loads of little POVs. I can tell you that this is coming to a close now, despite all the unbelievable tension. The next chapter will most probably focus solely on a certain psychic and vampire confrontation, if you catch my drift? *grin* I think the reason this is drawing to a close so quickly is because the idea has reached the point I want it to be at (thank god), and I have another idea (believe it or not!) that seems intent on hogging all my focus. *growl* Hehe... when you see the idea, you'll get why I just laughed, maybe. But, gah! Enough of that. On with the show/tension/angst/drama! You get the point...

**RogueSparrow: **Hehe. Good quotation there. I like it. Ah yes... the abrupt end. Sorry about that. Couldn't be helped. When your mind stops working, there's little you can do about it *frown*

**drowchild: ***helps you to egg on Tom from the sidelines, and then remembers who's writing this* Oops, suppose I should get back to work, shouldn't I? *nervous laugh*

**Beck2: **Not a problem. At least you came back. Hyde is a little bit miffed methinks, and I should know. I'm kind of in control of the guy... beast... him, you know what I mean. 

**Rayne: **Wow, thanks! Best action scenes? That's quite a compliment! I'm a big Mina fan myself, hence her big inclusion in my stories *cough*. She's such a cool character. And the last thing I want is to take her, or anyone else, out of character... I hate that. Thank you again.

**Silent Bob 546: **Yay! You hate them! Wahoo! You're the first person to say you hate all four of them, and I'm glad. I tried to make them as obnoxious and despicable as possible, and I guess I succeeded in your eyes. That makes me feel very happy. 

**Capt. Cow: ***watches you react to your sugar overdose* Hehehehe. Funny stuff... thanks for your enthusiasm.

**Sethoz: ***cowers under the Dorian glare* Eeep. That cliff-hanger was much more tame than any of the others! I thought you would appreciate that :P Hehe. *re-reads your review, and sees the word poke*  *whimpers* 

**LotRseer3350: **Poor Elizabeth? *joins you in the evil laughter* Although, to be fair, it was her father's fault she's so twisted and sadistic. Oh well... I suppose it's _my_ fault really. *sees she's diverted blame onto herself* Oops... Yes, anyway, she's getting her comeuppance for the whole stabbing thing. Bwahaha! As for Ishmael's accent... yipe... I can't remember! It's some sort of British accent... someone here in England, but I can't place it. And you're not dumb :P

* * *

            Edward completed his hasty climb of the stairs, and turned to the right, seeing one of the two figures from before, the man, who only succeeding in heightening Hyde's anger by having the nerve to glare at him. The man held a dagger of some sort in his hand, and made to lunge at Edward, but he clearly hadn't anticipated the larger being's rage.

            One mighty arm swept forward, knocking the man backwards in a heap. But the smaller man was soon back on his feet, and he threw the knife down the corridor at Edward.

            Edward leaned to one side to avoid the blade as it flew past him, but the edge grazed his arm, drawing a growl from the depths of his throat. His dark eyes turned on the man, and he bellowed furiously. 

            _"Try not to make too much mess, Edward,"_ came the voice of Jekyll from deep down inside, and Hyde took a looming step towards the man. 

            Of course, Edward paid no heed to Henry's little request, and took another step towards the man who had tried to attack him with something so pathetic as a knife. He would pay for that.

* * *

            She knew he –whatever _he_ was- was here somewhere. She could hear his light, delicate movements every few seconds, though her eyes could not place him. She had felt him when they had collided, and for a moment, she had managed to brush his mind and make him suffer. But then she had lost him almost as quickly, and was still trying in vain to locate him once more.

            Juliana was starting to lose patience, and her eyes darted about to try and find some clue as to where her intended victim was. Whoever and whatever he was, he certainly knew how to keep himself concealed.

            She would have him soon though... he would make some sort of mistake, and then she would be upon him. Juliana planned to punish him greatly for even being here in the first place... he had no right. Who was he to intrude?

            He was nothing, and she planned on showing him just how inconsequential he really was.

* * *

            Skinner ducked and weaved, using all of the alcoves and corridors at his disposal. This place was a bloody maze! How could anyone seriously intend to conduct business or even _live_ here without getting lost at least once a day? The answer to that very question was lost on Skinner as he jogged on the balls of his feet as lightly as possible, putting more and more distance between himself and the advancing woman. Her mysterious eyes kept searching for him, and for some reason, that only served to -though he felt quite safe as long as she didn't find him- unnerve him greatly. He thought she might have some secret way of finding him, though he knew that was impossible. She couldn't see him, and therein was her weakness.

            So long as he took full advantage of it –something Skinner happened to very good at indeed- he might just be able to keep his skull from being torn apart from the inside. He was quite keen on keeping his head intact. He was in no rush for the woman to get her eyes on him and make that anything other than what he wanted. 

* * *

            Elizabeth was so intent on the gun itself and keeping it under her telekinetic control that she barely even registered Tom Sawyer was still in the room with her. All of her focus was on her task, and her mind was stretching as far as it could go. She knew she was fighting something... but what?

            Flashbacks of her father coming towards her haunted her mind, and she was distracted sporadically, her concentration slipping. She could feel a tug on the weapon she had hovering over the ground, but tried not to think about it, instead keeping her mind set firmly on taking back what she now felt belonged to her. 

            The gun... she remembered whose it was now, and her attention started to slip from the rifle, to who was fighting her for it, physically gripping the weapon.

            Using all of her strength and ability, she fired it one more time.

* * *

            Gregory picked himself off the floor, thoroughly bruised and battered, but too proud and arrogant to stay down. After years of winning, he decided quickly that losing did not suit him at all. He wasn't willing to lost to a freak-of-nature such as the one coming towards him. 

            He stood, unbalanced, and managed to duck under the blow that came for him. On his way down, he grabbed the beast's arm, and opened up its memories, reaching in with his own mind whilst keeping hold of the arm.

            This was not a monster... this was a _man_? It made no sense. The images flashed with little order, making Gregory's head pound mercilessly, and beast and man screamed as one, both hurt and confused.

            The monster thrashed his arm to the side, slamming Gregory into the wall with enough force to shatter bone. Gregory could not –despite the aforementioned pride and arrogance- bite back the yell that escaped him then, even as he collapsed to the ground, feeling the way his right shoulder sat out of place. It throbbed madly, and when he tried to move it, he failed. He only succeeded in bringing more pain, blinding him to anything else in his world, other than the rage building up inside of him.

            No... he did not like losing one bit.

* * *

            He could feel her slipping, a fraction more with every strenuous second that passed, his hands straining to keep their grip though it made his shoulder burn wildly with an agony that coursed relentlessly up and down his right arm, spreading to his chest. He knew she was weakening... after all, her last shot had gone wide, and he'd had time to duck.

His breathing came in forced gasps, and he gave a yell of frustration.

            That was exactly when the gun snapped free of her control, as if his outburst had startled her. It was so sudden he almost dropped the Winchester, but instead, he glowered at Elizabeth, spun the rifle in his left hand, rose it to his shoulder -ignoring the screaming protests of his body-, loaded another round, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

            The explosion of the shot resonated around the room with a booming crack that went through Tom Sawyer's entire body before he actually met Elizabeth's gaze. She stared at him for a long time, eyes unwavering. The ice blue pupils stared right into him, and chilled him to the bone then, before she gave a shiver, visibly. Her fingers twitched, and she held a feminine hand to her stomach.

            It was remarkable the shot from such a powerful gun had not blown her backwards into the door. She had been steeling her body for the impact, perhaps. Tom did not dwell on it, only let his arms drop, and he fell to one knee, exhausted and suffering. He gasped for air that refused to come to him freely, and his pain took over his emotions. 

            Elizabeth gave a small wheeze, and then closed her eyes -almost peacefully- before slumping to the floor, the wound in her stomach bleeding and staining the delicate fabric of her dress. She stopped breathing.

            Tom let the Winchester out of his grasp, and placed his left hand palm-down on the cold ground, trying to steady himself. 

            "Skinner?" he managed weakly, green eyes scanning the dark corners. He listened for any sounds: a footstep; an intake or exhalation of breath; the rustling of the chains hanging from the pipe as someone passed them. None came.

            He was alone.

            Giving in to the unbelievable agony, he collapsed to his side, and closed his eyes.

* * *

            Edward watched the man try to rise to his feet again, failing and seemingly giving up after the third agonising attempt. Edward panted from the exertion he had used, and watched the man with a twinge of an unfamiliar sensation inside of him.

            _"That's sympathy, Edward... not something you're used to, I'd imagine."_

            Edward grunted, and walked toward the man, not entirely sure what he planned to do when he reached him. Once looming over him, he reached down for him, intending to take him back to the Nautilus where Jekyll could tend to him, and then he could be incarcerated for his crimes. 

             As he picked the man up, he only just caught the flash of metal in the light, but was too slow to avoid it as it came plunging down towards him.

* * *

            Gregory Wright had finally lost his final scrap of what he had thought was sanity, and plunged the knife down at the beast's vast chest with a cry of pure rage and madness. The torso of the monster twisted slightly, and the aim went wide, but it still penetrated.

            With an insane laugh, Gregory heard the monster give a wail of agony, before glaring him in the face. Man and monster locked eyes then, and Gregory could only smile, though he knew that little stunt had surely killed what little chance he had had for mercy.

            _Mercy is a weakness_, was all he could think, and he cocked his head at the animal, the pain lost on Gregory now, though he did not know why. It had bled out of him, and all that was left was the sheer glory of having wounding his enemy in return, though it must have only been a small, trivial injury to such a hulking mass of flesh and sinew. 

            He felt the beast's grip tighten about his arm where he had gripped him, and felt a snap as one of his bones shattered under the sheer pressure. He barely felt it, only stared the creature in the face almost blankly now. 

* * *

            _"Hyde, don't! He can be imprisoned for what he's done! Don't give in to your urges, please!"_

            "Be quiet, Henry," Edward growled, and saw the flicker of confusion in the man's dark eyes as he held him in a vice grip that had already crumbled the bones in his left arm as he held him aloft like a mouse, helpless and devoid of hope for escape.

            This man did not deserve mercy or sympathy. He was the kind of man who expected nothing less than what he 'bestowed' on his victims... cruelty and malice. Perhaps he saw it as a fitting way to die.

            "Very well," he growled to the man, and saw something in the eyes again. Was it gratitude... or sheer lunacy?

            They were over the banister now, and with a roar, Edward Hyde lifted the man high into the air, reached back with him in his grasp, and then hurled him through the air over the foyer below.

            _"**No**!"_

            Jekyll's cry fell on deaf ears... it was too late.

* * *

            The last thing Gregory Wright felt was his own body soaring over the banister, high above the bare foyer, all thoughts of survival lost to him, his mind a complete void, a blank canvass. He welcomed death with open arms.

            Though he was not sure why, it seemed a fitting way to end his existence. He had fought with all he could muster against the monstrous beast, and had lost. At least he hadn't fallen victim to that brat and his silly guns. That would have been embarrassing.

            Before anything else even remotely resembling a coherent thought could flash through his warped mind, Gregory smashed into the wall on the entrance face of the house, and then the ground came rushing up to meet him.

            Gregory Wright remembered nothing more.


	18. Justice

**A/N: **Ooh, it's all getting tense... and my other story is really fighting for precedence, screaming _'Write me! **Write me!**'_ and I can't hold it off for long. It already seems to have picked itself a title as well, and a couple of scenes are firmly rooted in my twisted little mind. Won't be long until that breaks free, let me tell you... and for all of you who are interested, it's going to be a sequel sister-fic to 'Silver Bullet'. :D But enough about that for now... there will (hopefully) only be about three more chapter after this, max. That's if it all goes according to plan. Yeah... so anyway...

**Rayne: **They did indeed get what they deserved. Quite fun to write, those bits. Ah yes, this chapter is nothing but Amelia and Mina.

**Silent Bob 546: ***laughs at your enthusiasm* Glad you enjoyed that. Yes, had to use Hyde in there somewhere, and who better for him to deal with than sadistic Gregory himself? 

**angelic katty: **Um... luck? Fluke? Without even knowing? That's in regards to the sub plot comment. Hehe. Thanks. I was especially satisfied to get rid of Gregory... I did enjoy writing his evilness, but it was so fulfilling to write him meeting his end.

**Capt. Cow: **Well, here you are. Hopefully you'll get some more sugar in you soon, no? It really did make you all hyper and excitable, and that was pretty entertaining to read when I opened my mail. Made me smile. Thanks for that! Hope this update was quick enough for you.

**LotRseer3350: **Ah yes, the quick pace of the last chapter... it just seemed to come naturally in those short speedy bursts. Hope it didn't ruin the pace too much, if at all. Here's hoping it didn't *crosses fingers* 

**Sethoz: **Ah yes... Juliana and Amelia are kind of the worst two aren't they? Luckily Skinner is on the Juliana front... if she can't see him, she can't hurt him. Hopefully. Tom in agony... on his own? In _my_ story? Never! :D

**drowchild: **You naughty person you, sneaking on at school. Hopefully you didn't make too much noise when you saw I left Tom in a bad way in a locked room on his own in pain... maybe I shouldn't have reminded you of that, hmm? Might not have been the best idea. *hands EMuse a cyber-cookie for her dictation*

**RogueSparrow: **Amelia... something nasty? I'm sure I can figure something out. She was very, _very_ mean to poor Sawyer, wasn't she? *stabs Amelia voodoo doll* Oh wait, what am I doing? I have the actual character in my power, Muahahaha! Hope your exams didn't go too horribly. I'm sure you're fine :D

**Niani: **Yes indeedy, evil torturing guy is dead. Dead as a doornail. Never to... ok, you get the point. Yes, Hyde did good, even if he had to get a stabbing to provoke the 'right thing', which in this case _was_ murder and destruction. *waves Go Edward flag*

**Panzergal: **Ah, so long as there is inspiration in me, I will never stop! You are powerless to stop me! Bwahaha! Okay... calming down, taking back control from evil alter ego... um... Bob. Yes, Bob, that's it. *cough* Gah... craziness. Too much sugar perhaps. Oh, and don't worry, I wrote these shout outs _after_ I wrote the chapter, so the sugar or pepperoni pizza or whatever did not affect the plot. Yes... thank god for the Cavalry syndrome, eh? Without it, Jekyll and Skinner would be sipping tea or scotch on the Nautilus, and Mina and Tom would probably be dead...

**Aryah: **Aha, thank you kindly for your interest! I appreciate it greatly. And with your blessings, here is **_Chapter 18!_** [enter dramatic music here]

* * *

            Amelia faltered only once as she made her way through the corridors of the labyrinthine building, and she shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. Something had felt awfully strange for a moment. She had always been able to... almost _sense_ her daughter... but for a moment...

            She had no time to dwell. She ducked into a room, and waited for the vampire to follow her. Amelia knew Mina Harker was right behind her, even if not in visual range; the woman would be able to smell her. With a grimace, Amelia closed the door, taking no care to be quiet.

            This was what she had been waiting for, although if everything had gone according to plan, she would have used Harker to destroy Sawyer, thus tying up a loose end. But no... something had been in that room with the two of them, and had destroyed everything. She had lost control. And she didn't like it when that happened to her.

            Of course, Amelia had no way of knowing that on the other side of the building, Tom Sawyer had just put a bullet into her precious daughter... she would never see her again.

* * *

            Mina vaulted off the last wall where Amelia's scent was strongest, and sped down the corridor adjacent, growling all the way. She hated it when her vampire side took over normally, but with everything that had happened, she wasn't going to let her morals stop her from putting an end to all of this. It was time she finished it.

            Inside, she felt awful for the whole reason behind the situation, knowing it was her fault that this had happened, her hunger and her inability to stem it. She had killed someone dear to this woman, Amelia, and now she was paying for it.

            But Mina did not appreciate, in any shape, way or form that Amelia had decided to attack her _through_ her friend... her companion. Tom Sawyer and the rest of the _League_ were the closest thing she had to a family, no matter what differences they had and the arguments that arose. She still cared for them in her own unique way. Nothing was going to take that away from her... ever.

* * *

            Amelia heard the pounding on the door, and turned at once. She needed a weapon... she needed to be able to wound the beast and therefore enter her mind again. Breathing quickly now, the uncertainty rising within her, she closed her eyes tight, cursing herself for her weaknesses. How could she have let this all fall apart around her?

            Her eyes snapped open at the sound of another bang, and she let them search the room quickly. This was where Gregory sometimes liked to come to 'think'... not that she could ever think of that brute of a man having anything even similar to a coherent, reasonable thought. That would have been a miracle. He was too much like her late husband, and that man had been incapable of anything like a thought or a musing. He had been a hollow shell, a demon through and through... much like Mina Harker, only with victims close to him.

            But he was dead now, and soon Mina Harker would be too, she realised as she picked up a discarded blade. She knew not what kind of sword it was, only that it was rather small for her liking... that on top of the fact that she had never used such a weapon before in her life did not give her much confidence.

            Of course, her hatred was drive enough for her. She would see this through. She would destroy the monster that had slaughtered her family.

* * *

            With a shattering noise, the door caved inwards, shards of wood flying in every direction in splinters. Mina Harker came through with it, having enough foresight to vault into the room high over Amelia's head and come down on the other side of her before the sword could find its target. The blade missed by a considerable amount, and the woman on the hilt end yelled in frustration, cursing her skirts for their hindrance.

            Mina sympathised with her on that behalf. She wished she had her trousers on instead, giving her freedom to move, instead of these meddlesome skirts and petticoats. With a growl, she reached down swiftly and ripped off a good six inches from the length, enough for her to at least move her feet. The heels certainly weren't helping either.

            Her released hair had curled. She had never quite understood its reasoning, but all she could surmise was that it was caused by some sort of vampiric gene in her body. She recalled the battle with Dorian Gray... how when she had been using her abilities her auburn tresses had curled up around her face, but after her injury, they had mysteriously straightened.

            Quickly realising this was not the time to dwell on such trivial matters, she leapt backwards in a flying roll to save herself from decapitation. Amelia snarled in fury, and came rushing at her again, wielding the blade somewhat clumsily.

            Mina arched an eyebrow from her place on a cabinet, crouched like the predator she knew in her heart she was, and leapt forward, over the woman again. She wanted to tire her out enough to disarm her.

            The one thing that Mina was having difficulty with was the matter of whether or not the death of Amelia would be justified... if dealt by her hands.

* * *

            Amelia turned her head at the sound of Harker's boots hitting the floor, and scowled at the beast for her agility and teasing behaviour. 

            "Stop playing with me, monster, and _fight_ me!"

            Harker turned her eyes on Amelia then, and the latter was surprised to see the startling clarity of the blue pupils... not red. Why were they not red? She cared very little; she soon realised, and lunged with the sword again. This time though, Harker sidestepped at the last minute, and the blade lodged in the wall.

            Giving a tug on the hilt, Amelia realised it was stuck, and cursed her haste. "Very well," she panted. "What will you have me do now? Surely you will kill me as you killed my lover and son?"

            "Whatever I did in the past to wrong you, I am truly sorry," came Harker's reply, and there was a sickening sincerity in her words that only caused Amelia's anger to rise unbelievably.

            "You lie!" Amelia shouted. "You are nothing but a beast, and beasts care not for their victims or the wrongs they have committed! Do not treat me as a fool."

            Harker was standing, poised, about seven or eight feet from Amelia on the other side of the room. She showed no signs of weariness, but then again, why should she? She was a vampire, a creature of the night, a source of sheer power and endurance.

            This angered Amelia Kendrick further, and she stood, a quaking wreck before the other woman. "I will see you suffer for what you did to me!"

* * *

            Mina heard Amelia's words, and pitied the woman. She had never realised just how much it could have affected someone. Before, she had seemed so resolute, so determined. Now she was coming apart before Mina's very eyes, and it was a frightening spectacle. All traces of control and sanity seemed lost in the chaos that had overtaken Amelia's mind, and she meant to destroy Mina... the vampire woman knew this.

            Though it would have been justice, she could not let it happen. She had worked long and hard to redeem herself, and in the _League_, she had found her purpose. She had a way of undoing all the terrible things -even though she could not bring back the dead- that haunted her past. Still, the faces of her victims long lost in the mists of time controlled her dreams and nightmares sometimes, calling her to take her own life and end it all. She had never so much as taken a step to heeding their pleas. It was wrong... she shouldn't simply take the easiest escape route out of justification. She needed to make this woman see reason, to make her understand that she _knew_ she had wronged her, and was deeply sorry for it.

            But she doubted Amelia would hear her words, take them to heart. She was too far gone to even care about anything other than seeing Mina Harker die... _really _die, not the kind of cursed death Dracula had put her through, the death she was still shrouded in today. 

            It was her burden, and she would see it through to the end she saw fit.

            This most certainly was not it.

* * *

            Amelia stood, her rage coursing through her veins in a bubbling mass of chaos, and she trembled with the force of it as it threatened to tear her apart. Why was the vampire not attacking her? Why! She wanted vengeance, she wanted to see the monster _suffer_ for what she had done, and she just stood there placidly as if waiting for forgiveness! It was disgusting.

            "Amelia," Harker began, jolting the woman out of her raging reverie, "you must believe me when I tell you I am truly sorry for what I did to you. I know I can never make it up to you; replace what you have lost, but I can offer you my condolences, and tell you that I am no longer the thing I once was... the thing that took your family from you."

            "How _dare_ you try and justify yourself to me?" Amelia screamed, her hands balling into delicate fists so tightly, she felt her nails pressing sharply into her skin. "I will not listen to your lies, and your attempts to break me!"

            "I am not attempting to _break_ you," Harker said in retaliation, and it was with a slight harshness to her tone. "No... that would be very much like what you did to Agent Sawyer... I am not that person. I will not strike through another in an attempt to gain revenge!"

            Amelia scowled. "You cannot accuse me of injustice. I did what I saw fit to claim what was mine. You should die for what you have done in the past."

            "Yes, perhaps I should," Harker agreed simply, and then her tone hardened again, her eyes cold as she said, "but he should _not_. He had nothing to do with any of this, and you used him against me. It was shallow, it was wrong, and it was brutal... you try and justify your actions to me, make me feel like a monster. Yes, sometimes I am, but more often than not, I am Wilhelmina Harker... a simple chemist. I do not enjoy what I have done, it haunts me, but sometimes there is no other way! You must understand this." She paused, seething now. "But what you did to my companion... my _friend_," she growled, "was _very_ wrong... and I will not abide it."

            Amelia laughed, though it was far from the time for mirth. Harker glared at her outburst. "You call me cruel, you call _me_ sadistic! It was the only way!"

            "No it was not," Harker countered, and took a step forward, unarmed but still very dangerous, Amelia knew. She could not let her guard drop for a second. "You could have simply struck out at _me_. You should never have brought innocent others into this."

            "Innocent?" Amelia cocked her head in curiousity. "He is innocent? He associates himself with a vampire... and a spirit... how can he be _innocent_? He is no better than the rest of you... and he was a perfect tool for my purposes."

* * *

            Mina was too angry to correct Amelia on the use of her term 'spirit'. Her description of Tom was going too far... Mina could take the verbal attacks aimed at herself, she was used to them, but Agent Sawyer did not deserve them. He was a good, honest young man who worked hard to do the right thing.

            "How dare you?" Mina hissed. She felt it before she knew what was going on... her eyes began to bleed from blue to vivid red. "You have no right to use anyone, least of all people you do not understand. I will not stand by whilst you torture and abuse _innocent_," she emphasised the word angrily, "men or women. I will not stand by and watch while you try to destroy my friends. I will not let _you_ destroy _my_ family!"

            Before she could stop herself, she launched, and this time ploughed right into Amelia. Her movements had been too swift for the older woman, and the two went down in a tangle, growling and screeching at one another, both aggrieved, both raging with fury, and both intent on revenge. 

            Talk was lost to them now, and they clawed and lashed at one another to try and hurt or kill. It had overtaken them, and there seemed nothing to break the two women apart.

            Amelia lashed out with her hands, trying to force Mina off of her, but the other woman was far too strong, and she had soon picked her off the floor and thrown her with a bestial growl. The older woman struck the wall, and gave a gasp. Mina was soon before her again, pinning her, right in her face and breathing heavily with irritation and anger.

            "And what would you have done after my destruction?" Mina asked of her. "What would you have done then?"

* * *

            Amelia was hurt. She could feel the burning in her back from a newly formed bruise, and her aging body protested greatly to the pressure Harker was applying. She stared the beast in the eyes... red eyes now, like she remembered.

            "Why do you care?"

            "I care because I _should_ care, and because I _can_, despite what you think," Harker retorted. She was furious. That much was evident in her face and in her voice.

             Amelia thought for a long time. Why was she justifying herself to this creature? This was the same creature that had caused all of this rage and heartache, and now she wanted answers? What right did she have to demand them from Amelia? 

            "I suppose I would have gone back to my life, knowing that I had done the right thing... made you suffer for your horrific crimes."

            "You will not be my judge, despite what I may have done to you, though it was not my choice to kill those people that you called your family. If it were up to me, and if I had the power to do so, I would make it all the way it should have been... I would go back and make it as if that never happened... to anyone. Not just your family. It never should have happened, but I am paying for my crimes... like you must pay for yours."

            Amelia could not stop the angry tears from spilling out of her eyes as she stared Harker in the face, disbelieving as to her words. "Very well," she hissed angrily, giving up on trying to break free of the vice grip the vampire had on her. "Then end it... end it the only way you know how. If I must pay for my crimes, then do what your heart cries for you to do!"

* * *

            Mina took in a sudden deep breath at what Amelia offered her, and she saw the older woman tilt her head to expose her neck fully now. Mina's heart beat rapidly against her chest in feverish hunger for it, but her brain screamed for her to stop.

            Mina looked Amelia in the eye seriously and sympathetically then, but did not loosen her grip. This could be a ploy to throw her off guard. "You cannot mean this," Mina whispered harshly to her, the sudden quiet disarming to both. They both shuddered, though for very different reasons.

            "It is my choice. You say I should pay for my crimes, and you for yours... what better way than this? I will suffer, and you will take my life knowing that you have ended what I have done... and you have finished your job of destroying my family."

            The words burned into Mina viciously, and she closed her eyes for a moment. "I will not do this... unless you wish it."

            "I do not care," Amelia growled. "Just do it."

            Mina felt her breath quicken. What had happened to the woman's spirit? Did she know it useless to fight? Had she realised her mistakes? Whatever the reason... the urge was too strong now. Mina opened her mouth wide. The fangs pushed through her gums and she drew closer to Amelia's offered, exposed neck.

* * *

            Amelia closed her eyes. Something in her heart told her it was over... this was the end. There was a great swell of terror in the pit of her stomach that told her that her daughter was lost... though she could not place its credibility. 

            Her fight was useless... something akin to failure had taken its grip on her, and would not let go.

            She felt the icy grip of dread take her, and did not resist it, her rage and woe lost suddenly without explanation.

            It was over.

* * *

            Mina closed her eyes so as to try and conceal -even to herself- what it was that she was doing. Amelia had asked for it... who was she to argue this?

            Mina bit down on the woman's neck, gently at first, but then when she felt the first twitch of struggle, she latched on tightly and forcefully, drinking deeply and hungrily, feeling the very life drain out of the woman that had caused the _League_ so much anguish. 

            She felt the struggles stop almost as suddenly as they had started, and one of Amelia's arms fell limp. But still, Mina did not stop.

            Even when she heard a familiar voice cry for her to do so, she could not.

            The vampire had taken over once again.


	19. Body, Mind & Spirit

**A/N: **Wow... wrote this on the same day I wrote chapter eighteen... I think it's all starting to come back to me now! Hooray! There's still hope. About halfway, it hits a depressing note, but can you blame me? Realism! *calms down* Thanks for reading eighteen... here's the next instalment...

**drowchild: **Ah yes... twitching. Not good that... maybe you should see a doctor about it? Maybe Jekyll? Lol. Don't worry... here's some more Tom for you... kind of.

**Naitriab: **Sorry you didn't really like the characters of 'Silver Bullet'. Oh well. Thank you for the portrayal comment.

**Sethoz: **Sorry I missed you online buddy! Lack of Tom? My god... you're right. Evil bugger... last one in this chapter. I can't believe I killed them all off in two chapters. Wow. Not BUTTONS! That's just mean, trying to antagonise me with those lovely chocolaty treats! *sticks tongue out at you* :D Hope this part was up quick enough for you, and one other thing... _I need more of Bodyguard!_

**RogueSparrow: **You weren't gonna say what I _think_ you were gonna say... were you? Lol. Naughty, naughty. And yes, Amelia did kind of deserve that. She kinda went the wrong way about avenging her family's deaths though, don't you agree... hence the two holes in her neck. A soul? I wouldn't quite go that far : )

**Nathan-Daystorm: **I can't blame her for losing control. I know I wouldn't be able to... if vampires existed. Thank you for the keeping people in character comment, I appreciate it. I try really hard not to take them _out_ of character, so it feels good to know someone thinks they're like they should be. *hands you an ice pack* There's a wall there, by the way...

**Capt. Cow: **Yay! Sugar! As for the giving up, if you strived and strived for something, had seen two of your family members die, realised you will never see your psycho daughter again, and you've been cornered by something you can't beat... what would you do?

**Niani: **Heartless? Me? Not sure what to make of that... lol. Ah thank you. And no, for some reason I wasn't afraid to write it... don't know why. I probably just got sick of her. 

**angelic katty: **You heard me correctly. Sister-fic! Yes... sad but true. She was a rather misguided villain. 

**Leigh S. Durron: **Thank you! And welcome to... the end of the story. :D

* * *

            Skinner practically fell into the room, and almost tumbled right off balance at the sight that awaited him. His eyes widened, not too dissimilar to Jekyll's normal expression, and his jaw dropped.

            "Mina!" he yelled, trying to stop the vampire from her... the only word for it was gorging. She was tearing into the oldest woman's neck with a sickening ferocity, and Skinner's stomach gave a lurch. He completely forgot about the woman behind him, but he soon heard her heels come to a stop as she too took in the hideous sight before her.

            The woman halted immediately in her tracks, and her own eyes widened slightly. Skinner took in the unusual expression, and tilted his head in confusion. So she _was_ capable of feeling.

            That was when Mina started screaming, and lurched back from her feeding, letting the unmistakably dead body of the first woman fall limply to the ground. Skinner swallowed dryly, but a fresh scream from Mina brought him back to his senses. He quickly looked to the vampire, seeing her clutching her head and collapsing to one knee in agony.

            His eyes searched the room, locking for a moment on the concentration on Juliana's face, before -determination having taken a firm hold of him- he located something sticking out of the wall. He grinned somewhat manically, and ran over to it, gripping it safely with both hands and pulling with all his might.

* * *

            Henry gasped when the transformation took its toll, and the doctor stood once more in pride of place, a contrast to the previous mass that was Edward Hyde. Henry Jekyll let his wide eyes glance over the banister from his kneeling position, and he gulped. There, lying very still on the ground, bloodied and bruised, was the man who had... Henry remembered the knife, and suddenly gave a shout as the pain hit him.

            He looked to his right arm, where the knife protruded, and grumbled when he realised Edward could have at least removed it for him to save him the pain and trouble.

            _"I had my hands full,"_ was Edward's way of explanation, and after that, Henry shut him out entirely. True, he may have saved their lives, but he had killed... again. But then again, this man had been sadistic and cruel... far from human himself. He tried not to think about it, and pulled the knife from his upper arm, stifling the cry. He threw the blade aside, and stood. His trousers decided to stay up around his waist, and he walked barefoot down the corridor, taking care to step over and around the rubble. The last thing he needed was to cut his foot open.

            "Now..." he mumbled, "where did everyone else go?"

* * *

            It felt as though a thousand hot knives were cutting her skull to pieces from the inside, and unconsciousness was beginning to look very welcoming indeed. It threatened just around the corner, and beckoned to her. She almost gave in.

            And then, almost as suddenly as it had started... the pain stopped. Her blue eyes rose from the floor, and she took in the skewered form of another woman standing not five feet from her.

            The sword Amelia had been using now protruded rather noticeably through the woman's abdomen, right through from the back, where the hilt was barely visible. A sniff on the air confirmed her suspicions, even as the woman gave a choked sound, and fell on her side to floor, blood seeping from around the edges of the blade. Mina no longer hungered for it.

            "Mina!" came a shout, and she felt Skinner's presence at her side. 

            She panted and gasped with the shock of it all, and unable to form words, she simply nodded. Her blue eyes cast over to where she had been... feeding. Amelia lay crumpled against the wall, pale and dead. Mina had killed her... though she felt no joy from it whatsoever. She closed her eyes.

            "C'mon," Skinner urged, and she felt his gentle hand under her arm helping her to her feet, "let's get out of here. We need to help Sawyer."

            "Oh god," Mina gasped, looking to where she imagined the thief's head was, "Tom!"

* * *

            Coming across the only metal door in the building had puzzled Henry, and he had taken it upon himself to try and open it, mostly out of curiousity. It would not budge. He would have tried shunting it with his shoulder, but his arm ached something vicious.

            The sound of running footsteps behind him caused him to turn, and he saw Mina Harker coming right for him, though her attention was focused on the door. Behind her came the impressions in the dusty carpet that suggested Rodney Skinner. When he came to a halt, he was panting for breath.

            "We have to get the door open," Mina said at once, and she started trying to budge it herself, though it was clear most of her strength was gone. "It's locked!" she growled in frustration.

            "I suppose you wouldn't appreciate if I said 'I told you so'?" Skinner mumbled, and Mina did not even reward him with a glare. Her attention was elsewhere. 

            "We need Captain Nemo," Henry told them, "he'll be able to get this blasted thing down."

            "Yeah," Skinner agreed, though it was a level of cynicism that he did so, "but he's quite a way off, mate. You don't look in any condition to be runnin' about New York yourself, and Mina here just had a bit of a run-in with someone intent on ripping her brain apart from the inside-out."

            Henry widened his eyes after Skinner's proclamation, but he was right.

            "I have my methods of transportation, gentlemen," Mina grumbled, and began to turn and head for the exit.

            She only got five steps down the hall -rather unsteadily at that- when the clatter of someone else approaching made everyone freeze, even stop breathing. They stared, anxious and curious to the corner up ahead, and were relieved when a familiar face came into being.

            "Ah," Nemo called to them, "at last. Thankfully, a 'giant monkey' is not hard to track with so many people out at night, Dr. Jekyll."

            Henry cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and nodded, thankful himself. 

            "Where is Agent Sawyer?" Captain Nemo came up beside them, a dozen of his armed crewmen behind him.

            _A little late for those weapons... could have used those a while ago though_, Henry thought to himself, having no doubt Edward heard him. He thought he felt the chuckle from his alter ego.

            Mina looked back to the door. "Behind here," she told their newly arrived companion. "It's locked, from the inside. And I am ashamed to say I do not have the strength to open it myself." She blushed, as if ashamed. 

            Henry felt a pang of sympathy, but tried to ignore it for the other pressing matter that should take precedence, he knew. "What do we do?"

            Nemo did not smile, but there was a light in his eyes as he held out a hand to one of his crewmen. The sailor handed him a pouch at his side, and as a group, they all stepped away, leaving the members of the _League_ standing before the door. Henry narrowed his eyes, and looked at the pouch.

            "I will soon have the door open, do not worry," Nemo assured them, and removed something from the pouch. The _League_ -bar Nemo- exchanged looks of confusion.

* * *

            Mina had covered her ears when the explosion had taken place, shaking the walls around her only very slightly, but still troubling her hearing. Sometimes, she regretted having sensitive senses. As one, the four members of the _League_ stepped around the corner where they had been taking cover, and took in the sight of the rather dilapidated door.

            It had completely lost its locking and handle mechanism in the small but powerful blast. A rather length dent had become apparent, making it look as though Hyde himself had pounded with all his might against the door. Needless to say, they would have very little trouble getting inside the room now.

            "What did you say that stuff was again?" Skinner asked, now wearing one of the sailor's spare jackets. Jekyll was attired similarly. The sleeve of Skinner's borrowed jacket rose as if he were sticking a finger in his ear from the sound of loud blast.

            "I didn't, but it is something I have been developing," was all Nemo divulged on the matter, and they let it drop. They all looked to one another, before Mina and Jekyll pushed forward ahead of them all, and tried the door. It creaked inward, collapsing onto one hinge miserably, and still smoked. The smell was rather unappealing, but when Mina's eyes adjusted to the light, she charged in without hesitation.

            "Jekyll!" she called urgently, and after he had checked the body of Amelia's daughter just inside the doorway, he was crouched next to her.

            Tom lay on his side in the middle of the floor, unconscious and looking very pale. His skin was clammy, and he felt a little too cold for Mina's liking.

            Jekyll checked for a pulse, waited a moment... a very long, tense moment, before he gave a sigh of relief, and nodded. "He's alive, but in a bad way."

            Skinner was standing beside them now, and he crouched after a moment, scooping up Tom's dropped Winchester rifle. He collected the Colt pistols as well, perhaps feeling it wrong to leave them behind. He handed them to one of Nemo's sailors, who accepted the burden without question.

            The invisible man came up beside Jekyll and Mina once more, and asked, "Is he all right?"

            "He has quite a few injuries, from what I can tell," Jekyll divulged, having rolled the American over gently onto his back, and was now checking him as much as possible without the use of the infirmary facilities on the Nautilus. An injury on the doctor's own right arm was hindering his progress as well. "I can't check him properly here... Captain?"

            Nemo nodded, and his men set about helping Jekyll. 

* * *

            Rodney Skinner opened the door to the infirmary, and peeked inside tentatively. Wearing a hat indoors was no strange tactic to him when he wanted to be seen, and right now, he thought it best. So it was that the 'gentleman thief' was attired in long leather coat, trilby, pince-nez and greasepaint. He wore gloves on his hands, and he stepped inside the door on bare feet.

            He caught sight of Henry Jekyll talking to one of Nemo's medical staff, and waited until the two were finished conversing to wander over, clearing his throat quietly to announce his presence gently. Jekyll turned his gaze upon Skinner.

            Jekyll nodded once to Skinner, and the latter returned the gesture politely. "So," he began softly, and looked to the drawn curtain around one of the beds, "how's he holding up?"

            Jekyll sighed, and rubbed his eyes, scratching the back of his head afterwards, all with his left hand. His right arm hung in a slack sling around his neck, a bandage visible through the thin fabric of the doctor's white shirt. Skinner had to admire the man's dedication in the face of injury. He had barely taken a break, only to check on his own wound, and change his own dressing.

            Jekyll shook his head with a light shrug. "It's hard to tell." He walked away from the curtain, as if afraid either Sawyer would hear them, or he would wake him if sleeping. "When he's awake, he'll barely say more than two words to anyone, least of all Mrs. Harker."

            Skinner frowned. Not a good sign. 

            "The injuries... he'll get over them. I found more than a dozen lacerations across his back."

            Skinner let out a sigh, and hung his head, closing his eyes for a moment. He had expected the American had been through quite an ordeal, but nothing quite so extensive. He stayed silent to let the doctor finish his explanation. 

            "The stab wound on his right shoulder was deep, much worse than my own. Someone put a lot of force behind that," Jekyll divulged. "There's bruising on his ribs, and he was lucky to escape internal bleeding. Someone gave Agent Sawyer quite a beating... though, not surprisingly, none of it shows on his face or hands... anything we would have seen whilst he was under the control of the woman."

            "So when you said about the gunshot... that wasn't a mistake after all," Skinner said plainly, glancing to the curtain through the shade of his dark glasses.

            Jekyll shook his head. "I'm guessing he broke free of the control, and was trying to attract attention... though unfortunately, I arrived a little too late."

            "But you still sensed somethin' was up, and that was enough," Skinner told the man, meeting his gaze. Jekyll stared at Skinner for a long time, and then nodded as if in acknowledgement. He sighed, looking to his arm.

            "Time to change my dressing," he breathed softly, as if with regret. 

            Skinner nodded. He thought back over the thorough search he had helped with back at that maze of a house. All four of the -Nemo had called them psychics, as had Jekyll and Mina- bodies had been checked for any sign of life. The man had been found in the foyer, body broken, far from the land of the living. Hyde had made sure of that. There was the young woman, a rifle shot to the stomach having claimed her life. The oldest woman had been drained of blood by Mina, who still spent most of her own time in her cabin reliving the event in nightmares and suffering in silence for her act. And finally, the woman Skinner had run through with the sword he had retrieved -and not without great effort- from the wall. 

            There had been no one else in the house, and after leaving an anonymous tip with the police; the _League_ had cleared out of New York altogether. They had sailed out and were heading to England now. Skinner, for one, would be glad to have a bit of the London life around him again. The hustle and bustle of America hadn't been quite to his liking.

            Skinner glanced now, back at the curtain before calling softly over to Jekyll, "Can I?" He gestured to the secluded area, and after a moment of consideration as he removed his shirt one-handed, Jekyll nodded, but not before he had thrown Skinner a look that said 'be careful what you say'.

            Skinner understood. No doubt Sawyer was in a bit of a mess... both physically and mentally.

            So it was no surprise when he slipped inside the curtain, to find the young man laying on his left side, curled up under the sheet, making himself as small as possible it seemed. Skinner's frown deepened, and he swelled with pity. He sighed gently, and moved over to the chair that rested beside Sawyer's bed. He sat in it softly, and heard it creak anyway. He cursed the piece of furniture silently, and looked over at the -was he sleeping?- form of the American. His breathing was gentle, and still slightly irregular. 

            Skinner ran through the list of injuries Jekyll had relayed to him, and looked away, ashamed to stare at his unfortunate friend. Sawyer and Skinner were more alike than either of them realised... perhaps internally they both knew it, and that was why they argued a lot less than any of the others, but it was as though anyone in the _League_ was frightened to call one another friend for fear of what would happen were it revealed to anyone outside of their small -some would call it elite- circle.

            _And look at what happened when someone found out_, Skinner thought sadly, glancing at the unmoving form again. The blonde hair was a tousled mess, far more dishevelled than it normally was, and it was rather limp, lifeless. _Someone took advantage of it... to hurt one of us. I don't know how they found out about the _League_, but they certainly attacked where it hurt_.

            Sawyer was the youngest, and by far the most vulnerable, and not just because of his age. Mina's instincts protected her most of the time; Jekyll had his Hyde; Nemo rarely left his ship alone and was trained in martial arts; and Skinner had his stealth and instant invisibility with a simple casting off of personal clothing items. What did Sawyer have? Guns, bravado, a lot of enthusiasm and optimism. Those weren't very good weapons unless your enemy kept his distance. Sawyer had fallen victim to something terrible, and it had hurt him far more than any of the others could understand... and for that, Skinner had never felt so useless.

            "What do you want, Skinner?"

            At first, Rodney Skinner did not register the voice. It was weak and hoarse, barely above a whisper, and filled with... on reflection, it was nothing. The tone was dead. Skinner felt awkward all of a sudden. "Just thought I'd drop by and give you some company." 

            _Who am I kidding? The kid doesn't want sympathy... he wants to be alone._

            There was the visible rise and fall in Sawyer's body as the young man took a deep breath, though it might have pained him. Then he rolled over, careful not to jar his heavily bandaged shoulder as he came to rest on his back. He sat himself up a little, and Skinner could clearly see the American's green eyes now. They weren't bright so much anymore... something was missing, and that was heartbreaking.

            "I can leave if you want," Skinner told him sincerely.

            Tom Sawyer stared down at his hands on top of the blankets for a long time, and then he simply shook his head once to each side. His limp blonde locks shifted with the movement, hanging on his brow. "No... it's okay."

            "Are you sure? I wasn't sure whether you wanted to sleep."

            Another shake of the head. "I don't want to sleep."

            Skinner nodded. _Can't blame him... can't have been a very pleasant sensation, from what Mina tells me about the mind control. Too much like drowning for my tastes..._

            "How's Mina?" came the small question, the American's voice as distant as his eyes.

            Skinner considered the man before replying, "She's fine." He paused, and then took a shot in the dark; "She doesn't blame you, you know."

            The eyes met his face then, but only for a second. A wry smile flickered into being, and then faded away. "Sure she does... why shouldn't she?"

            "Look," Skinner sighed, "how _could_ she blame you for something so obviously out of your control?"

            "It wasn't out of my control," Sawyer retorted, though with far less vigour than he normally would have. "I could have fought Amelia... I could have kept her out."

            "Mina couldn't."

            Another brief locking of their gazes, before Sawyer sighed as much as he dare. "I stabbed her... that's why. She was weak."

            "You didn't stab her... that _Amelia_ did... she just used you to do it."

            "Exactly."

            _Bad wording, Rodney_. Skinner took his trilby off, resting it on an unused tray nearby. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. Look... _no one_ blames you. That wouldn't be fair. We were all at risk from these people."

            Sawyer chuckled, void of humour or happiness, eyes still staring straight ahead. Then he sighed again, and frowned deeply. 

            "You can't blame yourself just because you..." Skinner took a moment, and then continued, "what they did to you... none of us could have endured."

            The look that came over Sawyer's face said it all; 'you don't understand'.

            "You're right if you're thinking I don't understand... I can't. How could I? I've never been through anything like that... and I hope I never have to... no one should have to go through that. It's barbaric, and inhumane." Skinner paused for a pensive moment, carefully considering how to go on; "The natural thing to do is blame yourself because a dear friend got hurt... if it were me, I'd probably do the same thing. I don't even know if I'd have made it through all of that... I'm built for evasion, not for plain old survival, Sawyer... that's what people like you are for. You're strong, and that's why _you're _still here... and _they're_ not."

            His young friend shifted slightly, and then glanced over at Skinner. He sighed once again... but perhaps it wasn't a sigh, maybe he was struggling to breathe normally. Who knew?

            But when he opened his mouth to speak, the words that came forth were not in retaliation or debate... they were something Skinner never thought he would hear... they were words of defeat.

            "I want to leave."


	20. Find The Words

**A/N: **Oh my god! Last chapter! So sad... but kinda happy. I can't believe I've finished **_two_** of these now. Wow... I'm sorry... I'm just so pleased :D I'd like to thank you all for your reviews. You made sure I kept going, and that's something worth thanking you all for! :D Okay... now this chapter could be taken as kind of predictable, or kind of cheesy... or you could try and accept it as what I intended for it to be... something emotional and my attempt at a beautiful poignant scene. I'd like to know whether or not I've succeeded. Now for the final shout outs...

**drowchild: **Aw, hope I didn't make you too sad. As for him leaving... you'll have to read and find out.

**Sethoz: **I'm not a monster! Put yourself in the poor guy's shoes. I'd feel a bit useless if I were him. Buttons? You'd better hold to your promise...

**Capt. Cow: **Go back to Becky? That would be kind of sweet, but with all the guilt from reliving Huckleberry's death... yipe. He'd fall apart. Love story, eh? Aren't many of those on here. 

**Leigh S. Durron: **Muahahaha! Ah yes, aren't twists fun? 

**RogueSparrow: **Oh, now, now, don't whine. I've written the end, see? You can be happy now... or cry... up to you. As for the depressing stuff, I've realised that. All my stuff seems to be doom and gloom. Hmm.

**Beck2: ***watches you hanging* Need a hand there? As a lifeline, here's the final chapter. Hope it satisfies. :D

**Niani: **Your favourite chapter? Wow. Cool. I did write it, and then realise how sad it was. *gives you box of Kleenex*

**Graymoon74: **Skinner... I've grown quite fond of him, so I thought I'd stick him in there and have him try to cheer our dear Tom up. He's a good guy deep inside, isn't he? And once again... have you been reading my notes?! *looks behind her* Hmm... *throws you a rope*

**Rayne: **Yay! Go Mina! Ah yes, the 'hug Tom' syndrome. I'm spreading it quite rapidly aren't I? The amount of times I've opened a review and seen the mention of wanting to hug him is amazing and sweet. Ah yes... the new story. You checked out the trailer? ; )

**angelic katty: **Cliff hangers... I can't seem to help it. Well, this one ends nice and smoothly, considering it is the last chapter. No cliff hanger this time :D

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

            Skinner had gone to Mina after visiting Tom, with the news that he wanted to leave the _League_. Needless to say, she was now marching down to the infirmary to try and turn him from this insanity. He needed to realise he had no reason to leave... everybody made mistakes... she herself had made mistakes much worse than his by a hundredfold. 

            She walked in, and Jekyll was then on his way out, perhaps to get something to eat. He said hello as she passed him, and she simply inclined her head, and closed the door after him. The room was otherwise empty, and she spotted Tom sitting up on his bed, his eyes closed and breathing deeply, as if trying to soothe a pain. There was a pensive furrow in his brow.

            He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Mrs. Harker-"

            "Skinner told me what you said."

            Tom hung his head for a moment, taking a rather audible deep sigh of a breath, and then looked back up at her. "I had a feeling he would." He paused, and then shrugged with his left shoulder, the right too painful to move. "I've been thinking about it for a while... I never seem to do much around here anyway."

            Mina came up to stand in front of him. He looked up at her, wincing slightly in the harsh light overhead. She crouched down in front of him, completely ignoring the presence of the available chair close by. "Listen to me," she said carefully, taking his hand in both of hers to get his attention. She was gentle with him, more of a subconscious act than a registered one. "You are important... we _need_ you here."

            "You don't need me," Tom replied plainly. "Look at the rest of you."

            _The rest of us? Has he separated himself from the _League_ already?_

            "You all have your abilities. What can I do? I can pull a trigger."

            Mina sighed. "Tom... we don't just need you here because of your abilities, do you hear me? We need you for a very different reason." He looked at her as though she were insane, and she persisted whilst she still had his attention, "You're more what the rest of us would love to be than you realise."

            "What are you talking about?" Tom took his hand back from her as though she were scolding him physically, and she pulled away as well, sorry for anything she had done to him in that moment. He moved to stand, and Mina poised, ready to catch him if he toppled. He managed to balance though, after a moment of unsteadiness.

            "I'm talking about the very fact that you are mortal, and you have no curses weighing you down from being normal, Agent Sawyer," Mina informed him, and though she had not intended to sound harsh or chiding, she couldn't help the tone.

            Tom turned on her, and he almost fell, but he braced himself on the foot of the bed. She could see his breathing now, irregular and still a little weak. She wanted to support him, but was unsure as to whether he would push her away, so she kept her distance.

            "You do not have anything keeping you from normal society," Mina pressed on, "you can walk among humans because you are one of them. You do not have Skinner's invisibility to single you out, Nemo's piracy, Dr. Jekyll's curse of Hyde, my vampirism... don't you see? You keep the rest of us from giving in to our urges, because you remind us of why we are even here!"

            "That's not exactly an excellent reason to stick around. Look at what I'm good for," Tom retaliated, and his weakness was clear in his voice.

            "What do you want me to say?" Mina asked of him. "Do you want me to tell you I do not blame you, because I will... and I don't. How could I? How could I hold you accountable for anything that happened? It was never supposed to involve anyone other than Amelia and myself, but she took it too far when she attacked someone I care about."

* * *

            Tom halted at that point, and regarded Mina cautiously. Care? She _cared _for him? He realised it should not have mattered right then, when he was in pain and seriously doubting his usefulness in the group... but it stunned him that she had admitted it, even though she did not mean it in the way he desired.

            "You might well say you should not have let her into your mind, but all I can tell you is that -wounded or not- I did the same thing. You are not invincible, Tom, and no one expects anything from you other than what you are capable of. I certainly don't, and for anyone else to do so if extremely unfair." Mina paused, and considered Tom in an almost respectful way. "I admire that you endured as much as you did... and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your fighting her to try and save me." Her voice had quietened.

            Tom swallowed, not thirsty, but feeling rather awkward now... not to mention the fact that he was now reconsidering standing up. It seemed like rather a bad idea now. One of his knees was deciding it would rather not hold him up.

            Mina was there in an instant, and she supported him carefully but firmly. He looked her in the eye. Did she really mean what she had said? Did she really appreciate his efforts? Did she really find him useful? Would she rather he stayed?

            _Did I only threaten to leave because I wanted to see how she would react?_ He banished the thought for foolishness, even as she helped him perch himself carefully back on the bed.

            "I couldn't just let her destroy you," he managed to say after a few long, deep breaths to calm his aching body. "No matter what she claimed happened," he saw Mina's look, "and even if it _did _happen, I don't care. I didn't care what they did to me, so long as they didn't hurt you." He held a hand to his side and winced when his ribs started to burn slightly with all the deep breathing. He started to take smaller breaths, and the pain eased.

            This time, instead of crouching before him, Mina took the chair and settled it so she was facing him. She sat down, and said; "You know... that is a prime example of why you are important here."

            "Any of the others would have done it too."

            "Not necessarily... they underestimated you because of who you are. Perhaps they thought of you as a weakness in the chain, a fragile link that they could abuse." She seemed to be picking her words very carefully, and Tom returned the favour by paying close attention to her meaning and her expression as she spoke; "But they did not take into account how strong you are because of what you have encountered in your life so far. You past experiences have made you mature more quickly than you should have; you're faster and stronger; you're more intelligent than most men your age, let alone Americans in general."

            Tom thought about taking the last comment as an insult, and reconsidered. She meant it as a compliment, and that was how he was going to take it. "You think I should stay."

            "Of course I do. You are a part of the _League_, and although it may seem the easiest way to try and forget what happened, it will only make it worse. You won't have anything to remind you of why what happened, _happened_." 

            Tom closed his eyes, flashes of what had happened returning to him, and he shuddered involuntarily. Mina seemed to notice, and Tom felt her hand on his knee gently. He took a soothing breath, and opened his eyes, amazed to find them swelling with tears that threatened to fall.

            "They..." He paused, taking a moment to word his sentence carefully, "I saw... all of the mistakes I've ever made," he told Mina in a quiet, somewhat shaky voice. He hadn't expected recounting the tale would affect him so much. He felt even more helpless now. "Everything I've ever regretted, and everything that's hurt someone I loved... I _saw _it."

            Mina cocked her head. She didn't understand, but was obviously too timid to ask in case she offended him, or brought up painful memories. Despite this being true, he continued anyway, not looking her in the face; "Huckleberry Finn... I saw him die to save me. I saw Quatermain die to protect me as well..." His breath caught in his throat, and a single tear fell as he managed to say, "... and my parents..."

            Mina's face fell, and she wore an expression of deep sadness whilst trying to hide the swelling sympathy that was betrayed in her beautiful blue eyes.

            Tom shook his head back and forth slowly as he remembered how he had seen his parents... the two people who had been lost to him for so long. He had almost forgotten them, by no choice of his own of course.  "He used them to make me hurt you." Their eyes met, and it made it even worse. Tom closed his eyes against the overwhelming amount of tears that wanted to break free. "And it worked... and I'm sorry... I'm _so_ sorry."

            He couldn't hold it back then, the sobs and tears escaped him, and Mina was overcome with his grief as well. She took his head gently in her hands and embraced him as much as she dare whilst he cried and trembled. One of her hands rested on the back of his head softly, stroking his hair gently as one would a frightened child, or someone who had lost a close companion.

            In any other circumstances, Tom Sawyer would not have welcomed her compassion and its embrace, but it was all he could use to keep from giving in completely to the grief and terror he felt. The sobbing was just on the surface... it would take him a long time to force out all of the horrible things Amelia and her friends had done to him. It would be a lengthy, painful process. The physical injuries were just the start of it... it was the mental damage he was worried about; what scared him most. He was frightened it would change him, stop him from being the Tom Sawyer the _League _knew.

            As he cried against her, holding her in return now, trying desperately to stop the shaking that wracked his body; he heard her soft whisper to him, "If you leave... you will have no one to help you through this... your family are here to help you."

            Tom didn't understand, and Mina seemed to sense this.

            "It's what we are... despite our differences and adolescent bickering... the _League_ is a family. Perhaps not in the most conventional sense... but it's what we represent and mean to one another. We care for each member as we would a brother or a sister... and we protect them to the best of our ability."

            Mina urged him to raise his head, and though his eyes were red and his face was tear-streaked, he let her with the gentle use of a hand. She smiled at him sorrowfully.

            "You apologise to me..." she began, in a voice so soft and soothing that Tom suddenly felt very dreamy and wished to sleep right then if he could only continue to hear her voice, "but I should be the one saying sorry to you. I failed to realise that you were not yourself... that you were _wounded_. I pushed my instincts aside, and you suffered for my mistake. I should _never_ have let something so awful happen to you. I feel as though I have failed you somehow... though you may feel the same way in regards to the others and me. You shouldn't, do you understand?" Their eyes locked again, and she smiled. "What you did... I can never thank you for."

            Tom had no words left. He knew what she was saying... and somehow he couldn't absorb any of it. It floated into his conscious mind, registered briefly, and then was gone... though the meaning was not lost on him entirely.

            She wanted him... perhaps even _needed_ him to stay, and she was telling him the only way she knew how.

            "The simplest reason you cannot leave the _League_, Tom, is because I wouldn't let you... _we_ wouldn't let you," Mina told him kindly but firmly, "it would be a terrible mistake. We would lose something extremely valuable... something irreplaceable."

            Tom would have smiled if he hadn't been so close to the verge of collapse, both emotionally and physically. He closed his eyes as she stroked some of the hair from his brow, and then he did actually manage a weak form of a smile, something she almost missed. 

            He knew she was right... he couldn't leave. He would lose a part of himself, and it would have been almost like giving in to Amelia and the others, although they were dead. They would have won, by driving him away from the best thing that had ever happened to him... even though that had never truly been their aim.

            Tom realised now how much he felt at home here... it was where he belonged.

            And it was where he was going to stay.


End file.
